


Rachel's New Pets

by WeOffendedShadows



Category: Glee
Genre: Au: magic, Familiars, G!P, Magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 63,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1218298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeOffendedShadows/pseuds/WeOffendedShadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel finds Quinn sleeping in the library after hearing some odd rumors of a blonde who is living there now.  Dragging Quinn to her house in the middle of the night and making her stay at the Berry residence was easier than she thought. Having to make her a familiar and deal with it? Not so much. Two more didn’t help the situation either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pets? No Familiars

There were rumors floating around Lima. Though, if Rachel was being honest with herself, which she always was, there were always rumors floating around Lima. But this is the first time she was interested in them. 

At temple, the older ladies, whom she was expected to spend with time if nothing else to have a female presence in her life that was positive and Jewish (the latter being extremely important), were gossiping, as they would normally, and Rachel tuned them out. After all, it wasn’t that they tended to say anything of importance, though Rachel knew more who was cheating on who with whom than she ever cared to know. There was a reason why she avoided the Desperate Housewives tv shows. 

But this time, Mr. Sagal was discussing a topic she heard from her neighbor who heard it from her beautician that swore she heard it from the librarian at the Lima Public Library. Apparently there was someone sleeping in the library, though it was only a speculation since no one ever found this person. “And I swear, she was saying that they called in the police, and they search the entire building at night. Didn’t find them.”

“Then how do they even know there is someone there?” Mrs. Schwartz said. 

“Because of the refuse, Marian, the garbage this person leaves. Bits of food wrappers, misplaced books, only to turn up later. Hell, food keeps disappearing from their lounge. Been happening for a couple weeks now.”

“How dreadful,” Mrs. Kerrigan said. “That some vagrant would spoil a fine establishment like the library.”  
How dreadful that no one sought to help them. Rachel looked over her shoulder, hoping to see her Dad, yes he was waving her to head home. She made her goodbyes, smiling and politely exiting as quick as possible so she wasn’t quite running. Daddy was lucky enough to escape this week, because of his third shift time slot at the hospital. 

But as they drove home, curiosity found a little spot in her mind and grew and grew as she stared mindlessly out the window. For once, she wasn’t focused on her music or practice that night. Instead, she wanted to do as she always did, prove that she could do what others couldn’t. Broadway would be hers, and she would be famous, while the rest of this town could only claim that they knew her or, more likely, bullied her. She would prove everyone that she was talented, more than anyone else. That she was worth more than anyway one else. And that she could do anything she wanted, despite being of a slightly less than average height. 

Once in her house, Rachel ran to her room and started to plan, reading up on breaking in buildings, especially ones that should be as easily done as the library. Friday night, when everyone was out watching the football game in the frozen October weather, Rachel Berry would be entering the Lima Public Library under complete cover. She wished she had time to acquire the blueprints of the building and case the joint, as the internet informed her she should, but if the police had already searched the building, then the person would possibly move on, which would not suit her plan.

Rachel was ever the optimist, and with a very little preparation, including finding a pair of non-torn black jeans buried at the bottom of her closet, that should still fit albeit tight, and she would have to be careful and adjust herself to relieve as much pressure on her as possible, and one of her black sweaters, she knew at least she could look the part of the cat burglar. And appearance was everything.

The hardest part about all of it would be waiting. Being patient. It was never one of her strongest characteristics to wait, but if she wanted to escape her house without detection that night, if she wanted to find this person and at least see if there was something she could do to help them (because really, who would want to sleep in a library), than Rachel would require all of her acting skills acquired since sixth grade summer courses and monthly lessons. She would have to act the part of Rachel Berry, singer extraordinaire and budding star, and now Rachel Berry, master infiltration expert, even if it was a title she had just decided she was. 

 

Getting out of her house was easy. Breaking in the library was even easier. They really shouldn’t have left a window open to the offices, it would make the entire building colder. And their wards left a lot wanting, but that was neither here nor there. Rachel used it to her advantage and practically crawled her way in with no resistance.

The tricky part would be finding this person, wherever they hid. If the police and the Librarians never found them, then they must be well hidden. But Rachel had earned her trophy from 4th grade summer camp for best at hide-and-seek, though it was usually the hiding part she won at, so finding one person should be no issue.

Three hours later, Rachel stomped her foot on the second level. Really, this place wasn’t that big and she had looked through everything, walking carefully so she made no sound. While ballet shoes were terrible for the cold, they were great to muffle her feet. But there had been no sign of this person.

Maybe they had left already. Which was disheartening, but it meant her accomplishment would not be shown off, as there was no prize for it. 

Rachel had no choice to pull out all the stops in her search. She closed her eyes and slowed her heartbeat as much as possible. Almost thirteen years of musically training had taught her some wonderful things about sound and being able to pull out pitch, tone, timbre, and all sorts of other things just by listening. So she did. 

She started by listening past her heartbeat and her breath, then the furnace and heating ducts, then the few fluorescent lights buzz dissolved into a background noise. There, behind it all, very faint, but incredibly steady, was a second person breathing. 

Rachel smiled and fought the urge to jump in place and clap. Good, she found them. Sorta. Now it meant finding them through the entire building. 

Another hour of walking very slowly and pausing to continue to listen and divine the location, Rachel found herself standing under a duct in the break room. She closed her eyes and listened again. Above her, there was a steady, almost too slow, rhythm of breathing. 

Now came the difficult part: Rachel was on the lower end of average for height and the ceiling was probably ten feet high. While she could stack a few chairs on a table to reach it, it was obvious that would be a disaster waiting to happen, along with potentially career ending event, and she would not be stopped from Broadway. 

Instead, she found a broom handle, stood right underneath the vent, and tapped it as hard as she could. A solid thump and a bit of scratching, before the vent opened and a face slowly moved in the opening. 

Quinn Fabray, albeit extremely dirty and thinner than she remembered prior Winter break, stared at her from five feet away. Her blonde hair had gray coating it, and it occasionally fell as she struggled to hold her head up and her eyes open. Rachel offered her brightest, realest, smile. “Hi.”

“Zhuh?” she said, opening her eyes wide before relaxing again. Quinn wasn’t even looking at her. 

“This really isn’t the best place for sleep, so you’re gonna come with me. Kay?”

“Whatz?” she repeated, and yawned rather big. 

“So, get down there, since that is rather high,” Rachel continued, “And despite my tenacity, I would hate to break my talent in the name of a good deed.”

“Whtzyadonher?” she muttered.

“Taking you home.” Rachel’s smiled lessened a bit. “I hope that is okay.”

“Can I’zlep?” she asked.

“Not until you come down there and to my car,” Rachel said. 

She took a deep breath and settled her eyes on her. “You intend to keep me awake until I agree to your demand,” she said. The HBIC/Ice Queen Rachel had grown accustomed to from the general bullying at the academy spoke now, though her voice held nowhere near the power and anger it once did, and Rachel took a small step back out of reflex. “What makes you think you can follow through with it?”

“If I’ve found you once, I can find you again,” she said.

Quinn stared at her, yawned, and then looked around. “Push that table over here, Berry,” she said.

Rachel nodded and moved as swift as she could, with as much strength as she could muster. The table scrapped the flow in an ungodly shriek, but she ignored it until the center was as close to directly beneath the vent as possible. 

Quinn disappeared for a bit, and Rachel tapped her foot, waiting and listening. She had not moved far along the vent, and in a minute returned. Rather, a small gym back fell from the opening, then a poorly dressed Quinn Fabray followed, hanging for a moment from the edge before landing on the table. 

She yawned again, and Rachel took in the rest of her appearance. Quinn had an extremely thin and large wind breaker on, covered in dust like her, and while she couldn’t see what she had under it, Rachel suspected from the lack of shoes and socks, and how dirty her feet were, she lacked them or at least ones in good condition. Quinn shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around her chest. 

“C’mon,” Rachel grabbed the bag before Quinn could move and offered a hand. The head-cheerleader took it without much prompting, and allowed herself to be lead through the library to the office window she had entered in. “Here.”

“Huhz?” Quinn said. She had slowed in the walk, and had Rachel not been guiding her, she figured that she would have lost her. 

“Put my jacket on.” Rachel held up her rather large pinky fluffy coat. Daddy had bought it for her last Christmas, and while she didn’t wear it to school in fear of it being slushied,

“Berry, that’s-“

“Quinn, put my jacket on.” 

The blonde sighed and moved slowly, trying to glare the entire time she let Rachel put it on her. She stood really close to the dirty girl, and couldn’t stop her frown at how thin she looked. While prior to the semester ending, Quinn was the embodiment of beauty in the school, a statuesque figure that cut through the entire student body with a look and a step. Had she been a bit taller and broader shoulder, and much darker skin, Rachel would have considered her a great example of an Amazon like Wonder Woman. But now, whatever strength, inner or physical, was gone, and a shell of a person, the shadow of that beauty, stood in front of her. How long had she been here? 

“Good, now, step through that window and wait for me on the other side,” Rachel said. She picked up the bag and stood next to the window, waiting. 

Quinn nodded and shuffled over to the window. It took a bit, and a few lifts and pushes from Rachel, but she was through and standing/leaning on the other side. Rachel climbed out with the same ease as the first time, closed the window to its original height, and picked up Quinn’s hand again. “My car is this way.” 

All she received was a nod and shuffling of feet as they headed to her car. It was freezing out, but Quinn would have been much colder, and she was walking barefoot. That was not a situation she had expected, and it did not bother her much. But it was wrong, and Rachel hated that she couldn’t do much about it. At least snow had not arrived at all this year. Maybe she’d get a White Christmas next year, but for once, she was grateful for the lack of precipitation. 

She looked over her shoulder every few steps, offering a smile to the exhausted girl, but Quinn kept her head down, her entire body loose and just hanging together by threads of will. Rachel frowned and looked away.

Whatever drove this girl from her home, whatever forced her to find shelter within the library, was wrong. There was no reason for someone, even a person as horrible as Quinn could be, to be forced into that position. 

Rachel unlocked her car, and dragged Quinn into the front seat, placing her bag in her lap. She rushed over to the other side and climbed in. She started the car and hugged herself as she turned as many fans towards Quinn. “Sweetie, can you close my door?” Quinn looked up and turned to her, then nodded and moved at the same pace she did everything else, a dead crawl, to grab the door. When she pulled it shut, it slammed closed and she jumped a little bit. Not much, but Rachel saw it nonetheless. 

“Kay, we’ll be home shortly, and then you’re getting into a bed, missy, no arguments,” Rachel said. 

“Kay.”

Rachel nodded once, turned to her eyes to the road, and drove away. She refused to look over to Quinn, especially when she reached up and wiped her face clean. She made no sound though and barely moved. But Rachel refused to see the cleaned lines on dirty cheeks. 

 

Quinn pulled the heavy comforter over her shoulder with a shrug and scooted closer to the leg right next to her. In fact, she threw an arm over it and pulled it as close to her as possible, resting her face against it. Fingers combed her through her hair and she let go a sigh. 

She was warm, a feeling she had not had in almost a week. The hunger she was used to, having scavenged very little from the Library. Her accounts were locked, and she had barely any cash on her when she left, which meant almost no food. But here, she was comfortable and calm, a feeling she had not had in almost five years. “Mum?” A giggle came from above her. No not her mum. Never her mum again.

She was thrown out. No, left. She had left her house, never home, with little opportunity to grab anything of hers. She was not even able to retrieve her laptop or books. All she had were a spare set of Cheerio sweats and a thin workout t-shirt.

So the warmth and the person were a rather nice surprised, even if strange. She could barely remember the night, just a soft, gentle hand in hers and a musical, kind voice. 

Quinn nuzzled against the cotton covered leg and another giggle came from its owner. She turned her head slightly to look up to Rachel Berry, her biggest target prior to all of this. A week before, no one would have thought that she would have been thankful that it was Berry in bed with her, even if the girl was just sitting against the headboard, running her fingers through her extremely dirty and knotted hair. It did not hurt; Rachel never pulled when she reached a knot, just gentle worked it as she scratched her scalp. The tank top was rather loose and barely hung on her shoulders, barely covered her, and the flannel pajama pants were extremely baggy but comfy to rest on.

“Hey,” she said.

Quinn was one of the few people who still tormented her, mainly because she had been taught it was necessary, both as head cheerleader and as a Christian daughter, no matter how much it was wrong. At the beginning of their year ten, Berry changed from the bright, sunny, and horribly dressed midget into what could only be goth-like persona with the same cheerful disposition. She had blue highlights, extremely dark and barely noticeable except in the right light or if a person was looking for them, and the tips of her silky black hair were also died in the same neon blue. She wore black t-shirts with various bands, comics, and video games, all of which Quinn doubted Berry even really knew about them. She had extremely tight black jeans or loose, almost dancing, skirts that just hung in the air every time she turned. 

“Hi,” Quinn said. “I probably smell.”

Berry shrugged and smiled at her. It wasn’t the usual smile that the student body received, large and brilliant, but a gentle and secret one, as if it were only for her. “You’re fine. Well, not fine, but clearly whatever drove you from your home was bad enough that you felt like you couldn’t reach out to any of your friends.”

“I do not have any friends.”

“Oh,” Berry replied. Quinn closed her eyes and stretched a bit until her head was resting completely on her thigh, though she started to squirm a little bit. She did not move from her spot. “Neither do I.”

“I am sorry about that.” She shrugged again, big enough that Quinn felt it through her entire body. Her fingers stopped scratching her scalp, and moved the base of her neck. 

“Is there anything I can get you?” Berry asked.

“No, just,” Quinn sighed and tried to sit up, though a firm hand on her neck, not forcing or anything, just steady and there, kept her from moving too much. “I should probably get out of here, I do not want to impose.”

“You’re not leaving.”

“I am a captive then?” she asked with a small smirk. It felt weird to smile.

“Of sorts,” Berry said. “Quinn?”

“Hmm?” 

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“Huh?” She drew circles on her calf and Rachel squirmed, trying to move away without removing her off her leg. 

“I mean, you’re right. You are the reason why I don’t have any friends, and the reason why school has been a living hell for me, even with my slight change in attitude this summer.”

“I am sorry for that.”

“We’ll discuss that later, but can you please answer my question.”

“I,” She trailed off and swallowed heavily. Quinn turned into Berry’s leg, pressing her mouth against it, and threw an arm over both of them. She stiffened for a moment, then relaxed extremely slowly, but Rachel adjusted how she was sitting and squeezed her legs together. “I guess because it doesn’t matter anymore. Not much does.”

“Sweetie, don’t say that. Of course it matters,” Berry said. “But that’s not really an answer.”

“Sweetie?”

“Deal with it, now answer the question.”

“I kinda like this spine you grew.”

“I’ve always had a spine, I just grew some claws that’s all,” Rachel said.

“And witty too,” Quinn replied, and received a full body laugh from her pillow. “Can I answer it later?”

“Sure,” Berry’s hand strayed under the top of her tank, dragging her nails against her. Quinn shivered and pulled away slightly. This was not proper, and she needed that distance. Rachel allowed her to sit up finally. 

The windbreaker she had found in the lost and forgotten bin was gone, as was her work out tank. Instead, she found a somewhat comfortable t-shirt with a brightly dressed man in blue with a cap on it. Her shorts were replaced with some pajama pants. Along with her missing panties. 

Quinn looked over to Berry and raised an eyebrow. She didn’t bat an eye. Her black and blue hair fell onto her shoulders, like an empty night sky. “I refused to put you into my guest room in disgusting clothing. Your hair and skin was the most I could handle at the moment, though I am gonna wash these sheets after your shower.”

At least her necklace was still on. Her pendant and charm remained with her.

“So eager to get rid of me?” It was meant as a joke. It really was, but the words just fell out of her mouth and over a cliff. 

“Never,” Rachel said. “I’m keeping you I decided.”

“Keeping? I am not a pet.”

“Yet.” Berry smirked and Quinn felt her face flush as she turned away. “Anyways, I’ll respect your decision not to tell me, but I do expect an answer eventually as you are now a permanent member of this household.”

“I, Berry, that-” That was not what she was expecting. Maybe a warm shower, some fresh clothing, just for a few days, and then off she’d go. But staying? Permanently? She turned back to her and saw the same smile, even if her eyes were brighter. 

“Yep, I decided and Daddy agreed after I told him where I found you,” Berry said.

“Your parents? 

“Of course, I told them when I work up.”

“What time is it?”

“Noon thirty,” Berry said. “I figured letting you sleep in would be good for you.”

Quinn nodded and looked down played with a thread she just found. “I do not know what to say.”

“’Thank you’ and then ‘I’m gonna shower’, because really, you are dirty, at least, physically, and that is not acceptable in house hold. Cleanliness is next to godliness after all.”

“Thank you, Berry, and I am going to shower,” Quinn said with a laugh, though did not look at her as Rachel climbed off of the bed away from her. 

“Rachel.” She stood next to the bed, just a foot from her, and Quinn could see her hands on her hips and almost felt the glare. 

“Huh?”

“You’re a guest here, and I’d appreciate it if you’d call me by my name, first name, not last.”

“Okay, I can try to do that.”

“That’s acceptable for now, though I expect it to be do later, fair enough?” Quinn nodded. “Good, I’ve placed a set of clothing for you in the bathroom down the hall, along with some products that I expect you to use all of them. Some of them more than anything will help you relax.” Rachel reached over and pushed her face up. Quinn dragged her eyes slowly up, following her pajamas.

She had felt something, just a slight hint of it, and it was strange. Not as strange as her, but strange nevertheless. There was nothing on her pants or by shape of her legs that she could tell if anything was off, but Quinn knew that Rachel was hiding something. 

But she was as well, so it did not matter too much in the end. 

“Sound good?” she asked. Quinn nodded. “Good, then hop to it, and please take your time. I’m sure you’re still exhausted and a nice long hot shower will help ease some of those tensions away. Let me show you to the guest shower.” She caressed, for lack of a better word, her cheek, dragged her hand down her neck and shoulder to her hand, and squeezed it gently. 

Without another word, Quinn allowed herself to be pulled up and guided to the bathroom. It was a choice she told herself, not simply the desire of an extremely strong-willed girl and distant acquaintance that drove her completely. It was a lie, but it comforted her a little bit, the idea that, for the first time in a long time, someone cared enough about her to take care of her. 

 

Quinn took a twenty minute shower, and most of that was simply spent standing under the hottest water she could stand. Berry, no Rachel, had left seven shower products: two types of conditioner, a shampoo, three soaps, and substance that she did not quite understand its purpose but nevertheless used like a soap. It was a choice, really, she wanted to use all of them, and end up smelling like a bunch of berries and vanilla. But she was clean. All the dirt and grim she had accumulated in the air ducts was gone and she felt almost normal. 

Berry, correction again, Rachel had left her a clean pair of black sweat pants with stars on them, as well as another small tank top, pink this time. She pulled them on with little fanfare, after digging through her cloths and searching for her necklace, and left the small bathroom. She could not lose that again. 

Never again.

The sounds of laughter drifted down the hallway, and Quinn followed them down the stairs into an open kitchen. Mr. and Mr. Berry stood with Rachel around the counter laughing and talking together. She did not feel like interrupting, but she noticed her and shot up from her stool over to her. “Hey,” Rachel said.

“Hi,” Quinn replied. 

“Good to see you’re awake,” Mr. Berry said. The number of people taller than him could have been counted on one hand, and his salt and pepper hair drew attention to the dark, almost engraved laughter lines across his face. “We’re worried bout you, give how much you slept already.”

“I am sorry about the inconvenience, and I will leave-“

“Nonsense,” the other Mr. Berry said. It was from him that Rachel acquired most of her traits, though her naturally tan-light skin probably came from her birth mother, not the pale, almost sickly, thin man. “You’re more than welcome here.”

Rachel dragged her from the foot of the stairs with that damned smile plastered on her face. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Rachel said, and Quinn did not want to ask again. She was brought over to the seat next to Rachel’s and practically forced to sit down, where a turkey and bacon sandwich and a glass of water was waiting for her. “I want you to stay.”

“And what you want you receive?’

“Damn straight,” Rachel said.

“Language,” Tall Mr. Berry said. “I hope that is okay. Star told us you were pretty much a carnivore, so thankfully we don’t have to slaughter a bunch of innocent vegetables, as she likes to do so often. Thank the Lord that we talked her out of that vegan diet.”

“Daddy!” Rachel stomped and put her hands on her hips, glaring up at the tall man. 

“I’m just informing Quinn of some of things in the household, that’s all, Star,” he replied. 

Quinn nodded and pull bits of the bread off of it, chewing very slowly. Rachel stepped even closer to her, almost flush now, and she had no desire to push her away as she would have the beginning of the semester, but clearly everything had changed. The diva scratched the small of her back, and she leaned into her. 

She wanted to stay. She really did. But if she remained in this place, in plain sight for people to interact with and even just see, it would be a moment of time before she was found again. She has escaped as quickly as she could have, taking next to nothing, and ran across town, no warnings or goodbyes. She had found what she needed and was gone.

Now, Rachel wanted her to remain, and Quinn was extremely thankful for the ed and the food and the closing, she could not remain here. She wanted to, because it was warm and there was food, and now there was Rachel, which mattered for a reason she could not but a thought to, but she could not.

“Quinn?” Rachel asked. The hand paused on her back, and she leaned away. But Rachel followed. 

“I am going to have to leave shortly, Mr. Berry’s,” she said. The bread was enough to fill her and she might be able to take the rest of it with her. Maybe an extra coat. The library was a wash, but possibly in the next town over, she would find a new place. At least until spring came, then she could go anywhere. 

“Why?” Rachel asked, whining. She could not look at her. “Back to the library?” Quinn shook her head. “Then why can’t you stay here?”

Quinn stared at the plate. 

“I think a better question is why you were there in the first place,” Mr. Berry said. 

Quinn sipped at her water.

“Sweetie?” Rachel said.

“I do not want to talk about it,” Quinn replied. “Please.” She held the pendant on her necklace tightly, edges piercing her palm. 

“You don’t have to say a word,” Mr. Berry said. The shorter man stepped around and sat at a stool directly across from her. “You don’t even have to look at me. I just need you to listen to my questions.”

“Quinn,” Rachel moved closer and touched the small of her back. She fought not to jump away. 

“I would like to go please.”

“Does it have to do with your father?” Mr. Berry asked. 

Quinn pushed the plate away.

“Did he do something to you?” 

She shifted her pendant closer to her chin.

“Did he take that from you?” 

She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled her limbs in, her feet on the seat with her now.

“He hide it?”

She kept still.

“It’s very important to you, isn’t it? It’s okay Quinn. It’s safe here. You’re safe here.”

“He’ll find me and bring me back,” she whispered.

“Quinn, no one-“ Rachel said.

“Star, just, be patient, please let us handle this,” Mr. Berry said. Feet shuffled and slippers moved for a bit until they paused. “Quinn, did you father hurt you?”

She looked away.

“Directly?” 

She did not move.

“Indirectly then. By taking that from you? Don’t answer that. I think I got it.”

“I am not safe here,” she whispered. She was never going to be safe again. Not as long as he would be out looking for him.

“Quinn, whatever it is, whatever happened, it has to be better here than there right?” Rachel asked.

She did not move.

“Quinn,” Mr. Berry asked. “What he took, did it always look like that?” 

Quinn pulled her knees up and hid her hand and pendant between them and her chest. 

“I need you to look at this,” Mr. Berry said. “Can you look at something for me? No one is going to hurt you here. For the moment you’re safe. I swear it.”

Quinn opened one eye and looked around slowly, then carefully opened the second one and lifted her head from her knees until she was looking at a small pad of paper with an oval filled with swirls. “Did it look like this?”

She exhaled heavily.

“You’ve never talked about it with anyone have you?”

“Dad, what is it?” Rachel asked. She stepped in Quinn’s space again, even closer, and threw an arm over her shoulders. Quinn felt herself lean into her. 

Why? Why was she safe next to her? Comforted by her. IT was not right. It was not right the way she hurt the diva over and over again at school, trying to break her. Quinn told herself that it was the desires of her father, but still, Rachel had every reason to hate her, yet she kept pulling her closer and offering her, of all people, comfort. 

“And since you could remember, you didn’t even see it until, what? A week ago?” 

Quinn nodded. 

“But you know what it was. You know what it meant if it was yours again. If you and only you had it, right?” Mr. Berry said. “That’s why you can’t stay, or at least, that’s why you think you can’t stay.”

“I am not even first generation,” Quinn said. Her tails swished behind her, stretching over the waist band of the sweats. All seven of them, though the energy they were supposed to have was not present. “I, it is far back in our line, and yet….”

Rachel said nothing of the tail that brushed up against her leg.

“It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t understand.”

Mr. Berry stood up from his stool, walked away from his husband, to her, and she tried to move away, but Rachel held her in her seat. 

“A kitsune, right?” he whispered, though she heard it anyways. Quinn pulled her pendant away from him, leaned back away from him.

She found it, her heart, her self, buried in boxes in the basement when she was looking for a book that her father said he had thrown down there because it was “trash” and should be forgotten. It did not matter. What mattered was her upcoming chastity ball at the Church, and how she would have to show just what grand and fantastic people the Fabray’s, and find herself a perfect husband of his choice. That was her purpose now. 

But Quinn wanted that book. And in a box in the corner, under dust and cobwebs, Quinn found her empty pendant. She found what it meant to her when she picked it up and held it tight to heart, the faint beat of the energy matching her weak heart, her weak magic. Physically strong, top of the food chain at school, despite being probably the weakest at, well, everything involving magic. She had the best theoretical scores, and since they started their practicals this year, the worst there, though no one talked about that. She made sure of it.

Here, in her house, away from her, she found a hint of what was missing. What was stolen from her. Quinn wanted it back.

Her father was a drunk, and tended to be drunk with other drunks, so when he left that night for his weekly bowling night, though Quinn knew it meant drinking and prostitutes, she broke into his study and dug through everything, broke every lock and chain she could, to find it. Find the orb that fit perfectly within her pendant.

Her magic sang to her, and with no thought, she took it and ran, grabbing a bag from her car and left before her father returned. She knew a search was on for her, but no one could speak of it, because if they did, they would have explain just exactly why her father wanted her back with the desperation that mimicked a man dying of thirst. They would have to know what Russell Fabray stole from his daughter for his own power. 

Whatever strength she should have, whatever the orb in her pendant should have given her, was exhausted, almost non-existent. But there was a slight flicker of it, and one day, when enough time had passed and she rested enough, Quinn could be who she should have been. 

“I, please, do not take, I know you can. You have me, but please,” Quinn felt her cheeks get wet, but stared at him. 

“No one in this house will take that from you, dear, I swear it,” he said. “Though that you having it, and being what you are, makes things a bit difficult.”

“Dad, what are you talking about?” Rachel asked. “Quinn’s staying here, with us.” With me, she heard. It would be nice, to stay with someone who actually liked her, though she had no reason to. 

“Of course, that hasn’t changed, Star,” Mr. Berry said, returning to his station at the stove. He began to clean up swiftly, lifting the remains into the air with a wave and dragging it over to the trash bin. “Now it’s a matter of logistics, that’s all.”

“I, I am staying?” Quinn asked. 

“Like I would let you go,” Rachel said.

“Are you sure you are not kidnapping me?” It was meant to be a joke, but part of her was worried. Whatever promises, whatever they swore, there was always that question of her pendant “mysteriously” disappearing. 

“Of course not, that would be against your will,” Rachel smirked at her. “That would be wrong.”

“But you seemed to enjoy that thought.”

“There is something to be said about tying you up, a leash and everything, and-“

“Star, really, this is not the time,” Mr. Berry said. “But that brings up a really good idea.” He ran the sink and floated the dishes over to it.

“I can get the basement I always wanted?” She let go Quinn and bounced up and down.

“What? No? Star, what are you referring to? Hiram, do you know this?” Mr. Berry turned from the sink, hands covered in bubbles and dripping water.

“Later, hun,” Mr. H. Berry said. “No, Star, you cannot, but leash is expected on a familiar, especially the larger ones. At least out in public until they can be fully trained. A collar is always mandatory, though.”

“What?” Quinn said. A familiar? Some of the older students at McKinley had them, but she rarely saw any of them in her classes, or even the hallways. Mary had one, an owl or something, but she hated it and never talked about it other than to whine about how it shits everywhere, all the time. Rumor had it some year thirteens had ones that looked like human, but she had never seen them, given that they were in the other building.

“That’s even better than my basement,” Rachel replied. “Really?”

“If it’s okay with Quinn,” Mr. H Berry turned to her. 

“I do not understand.”

“You are right to fear people taking that jewel of yours,” he said. “And you are right to not to trust us, but there is a way to protect it, to protect you and the power anyone, well, anyone but Star, has over you.”

“Mr. Berry, what are-“

“You are a magical creature,” Rachel said, “A powerful one with its own magic.” She pulled Quinn back into her and rubbed her bare arm. Quinn fought the urge to bury her face in her stomach. 

“And it is illegal, taboo of the highest kind, to take a familiar’s magic,” Mr. H Berry finished. “There’s just the matter of paperwork and, Leroy, do you still have that contact over at Mt. Carmel?”

“Yep,” Mr. L Berry replied. “She’ll fast track it, make sure Quinn’s safe and everything, handle all the legal. Might cost a favor or two.”

“A platter of thank you cookies?” Rachel asked. That smile, loud and full, lifted up Quinn just a little bit. Not much. Not really. “Would that be one of them?”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Mr. H Berry said. “Is this okay Quinn? You’d have your magic, yourself, under your control, mostly. It’d be Rachel’s job to watch over you and take care of you, make sure you don’t abuse it, but still, it’s yours.”

Hers. No one could take it. No one could control her again. Almost no one. 

Quinn looked up to Rachel. “I, I do not want, I cannot not go back to that.”

“To your home? Your dad?” Rachel asked.

Quinn shook her head and turned to press her nose against Rachel’s ribs. 

“She doesn’t want to be controlled again, to be under someone’s thumb,” Mr. L Berry said. “She wants to be herself.”

Russel Fabray had molded and formed a daughter of his liking, all without her realizing it: virgin Christian girl, top in classes and manners, politically powerful yet slightly submissive to his, and whoever he choose, will. His word was law to her, until a few days ago. Every word, every motion, every idea that ever came from her could be traced back to him. That was the power he held when he held hers. 

“Sweetie, that’s not gonna happen, kay?” Rachel said. “You get to be yourself. I don’t want to change that. You’re Quinn.”

“But I do not know who that is, just who used to belong to that name,” Quinn mumbled. “I am not her any more. I cannot be her anymore.” 

“Then we’ll make sure you figure who that is,” Rachel said. “And if I ever do get too overbearing-“

“Which will be quite often,” Mr. H Berry said

“Then you can just call me out on it, kay?” Quinn nodded. 

“Then it’s settled. I’ll call her now,” Mr. L Berry said. “We can take a trip over there, make a day of it, have dinner and everything.”

“I am not going to be a burden, am I?” Quinn asked. Her father had always made it seem so, that she was simple another status symbol, though he treated her like a normal person, she guessed. 

“Not at all,” Mr. H Berry answered. “Never think that you’d be that.”

“But the money and-“

“We have more than enough.”

“Enough for you to have stayed had we not had to make you my familiar,” Rachel said, and she felt the laugh. Quinn tried to smile. She really did. 

“Is this okay with you, Quinn? You don’t have to run, you’ll be safe. It’ll be safe,” Mr. H Berry continued. 

She did not have to run. To sleep in air ducks, or behind walls, or under porches. She would not have to scavenge for food and warmth. She could go to school and be almost herself again. Lord, she could be a Cheerio. Maybe not. “I guess.”

Rachel bounced and nearly pulled Quinn off of her seat. She wrapped an arm around her waist, held her tightly. She got the hint and stopped.

“Then we should get ready. Star? Those will work for now, least until we can pick her up some that fit properly?”

“Fine,” Rachel said, “but I like it when she wears mine.” Quinn agreed, but the thought was too strange to think so she pushed it aside. 

“Star,” Mr. L Berry said. 

“Fine, c’mon, sweetie, let’s get you dressed.” Rachel slid a hand into hers and tugged slightly, enough that Quinn stood up from the table, though she gave one last look to the sandwich she barely ate. “Take it with you, but just don’t get crumbs in my room.”

She paused and looked back and forth between the food and Rachel. “Really, though, I wouldn’t kick you out for it, kay? Not even the bed.”

“Star, I really don’t need to hear this,” Mr. L Berry said. Mr. H Berry laughed. 

“But she’s my familiar now, where else would she sleep?” Rachel asked, innocently. Quinn turned and raised eyebrow at her; she actually had that innocent and sweet tone that only children had in movies when they asked a really stupid question. She had never heard a real person speak that way. 

“Where ever she feels comfortable, and that’s final, Rachel,” Mr. L Berry replied.

“Fine.”

“Go get dressed and I’ll make that call, hopefully we can leave before two.” Rachel nodded and tugged on Quinn’s hand. She grabbed the plate and offered a small smile to the Mr. Berry’s as she was pulled out of the room. 

Maybe things would not be as terrible as they could be. If they kept their word, if Rachel kept her word, then her magic, herself, would stay under her control. She could be herself, whoever that person was. And being a familiar of Rachel’s could not be that horrible. Even if she was extremely excitable and energetic, plus obsessed with all things Broadway and a terrible dresser. Right?

 

Quinn was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. The finding cloths went rather quickly, though Rachel demanded that she stay in the room just to “ensure that she did not go off and run away” while she changed. That was not too bad, if it left her extremely red in the face and unable to look her in the eye. Her tails had receded which made the pants so much easier to put on.

Then she was forced to wait in the room when Rachel changed, who rambled the entire time, on some strange topic combining Broadway and a ward schema she was working on. She had put on a longer skirt than Quinn was used to seeing on her, still her school-girl plaid black and gray, along with torn, purple fishnet stockings and combat boots. Her sweatshirt was torn in the neck, and barely sat on her shoulders, revealing her dark blue tank and a lacy black bra. She had to stop staring when Rachel dragged her to the Berry’s car. 

No, the worst part was the car ride over to Mt. Carmel. Rachel demanded, stomping a foot and crossing her arms in the car nonetheless, that as her soon-to-be familiar she should sit right next to her and hold her hand, as to prevent Quinn from getting lost. She nearly called her out on that overbearing nature, but kept her mouth shut, glared and dealt with it. It really was not a big deal to sit in the middle seat and hold her hand.

But Rachel pulled her completely flush, hard enough that she nearly fell into her lap, which apparently was a better position, Rachel declared that it was a bit forward in their relationship for her to be offering something like that. Her face turned even brighter than the morning and Quinn moved as far away as the seatbelt would allow her from the diva, still holding her hand. 

Mr. Berry’s laughed at the whole situation, though Mr. L Berry had been a bit more hesitant with his daughter’s forwardness towards anything relationship related. Then they all started to talk on the subject of Broadway. The entire time there. With almost no break, because when one of the stopped talking, another one would start right away. About productions, songs, costumes, comparing various versions of musicals and casts, nitpicking the littlest of things and declaring massive opinions based on just the lighting alone. That topic resulted in Rachel stomping her foot and crossing her arms. And a glare for Quinn when she smiled at it. 

They arrived at the Mt. Carmel Pet and Familiar Emporium around two thirty, and Rachel had finally quieted down, though she kept bouncing in her seat, trying to clap and pull Quinn even closer. She gave up in her struggle to keep some distance and let the diva wrap an arm around her shoulders. She had been whispering about shopping and getting her some adorable clothing, which meant animal sweaters and short skirts, Quinn figured.

“Hold onto Star, Quinn,” Mr. L Berry said. “Especially since you lack a collar and leash.” Right, the leash. She had not been looking forward to that portion. Rachel’s enthusiasm about the items aside, it was just going to bind her more to someone, and she already had one item around her neck that was capable of doing it. But she knew that Rachel would smile, and plead, and scratch the back of her neck, and Quinn would give in with almost no question or resistance.

Rachel smiled and swung their hands as they walked into the building.

The Mt. Carmel Pet and Familiar Emporium was loud and full with items, and there were a few familiars free, especially the owls and the cats. The rafters had a few of them sleeping, while others flew overhead, examining the crowd within the building. A few cages held rats and frogs. “The more exotic ones are in the back, partly to protect them, but most of them are also extremely temperamental.” Mr. L Berry nodded toward the back. “Maria is waiting for us with them. Most of the paper work is done, we just need to sign it, including Quinn.”

“I have to sign?” she repeated.

“Yeah, intelligent creatures have to allow the familiar bond to exist in order for it to grow. It’s a choice.” Not really too much of a choice: be taken advantage of by everyone or possibly by one person. At least she was able to choose Rachel, a choice that was not that bad.

Quinn nodded and followed Rachel and the Berry’s through the crowds. No one noticed her or them for that matter, and most of the people were parents with little children or a teenager. Probably purchasing the familiar to help them get accustom with their upcoming responsibilities when learning magic. She held onto her pendant just in case. 

Rachel seemed fascinated by the place and slowed down enough to walk next to her, holding her elbow in both hands. She rambled on and on about all she read and researched about familiars in preparation for receiving one this year for her sixteenth birthday. Though most of it went to waste given that Quinn was an intelligent (very intelligent, she had to add), creature, she was still confident the majority of the training she learned concerning familiars would be useful.

They walked past a counter with no one at it, either manning it or looking for an employee, and into a back room. The place was rather run down, and the desk in the center was covered in files stuffed with papers to the point of popping out, and the one cabinet had all of its draws sticking out slightly, with even more papers leaking out. A closed steel door stood behind the desk, and was covered in rust and scratches. 

Mr. L Berry walked over to the old metal desk, moved some papers around and found a little button. Once he pressed it, he stepped back and crossed his arms. “Should be just a few minutes,” he said and offered a smile to Quinn. Rachel bounced and Mr. H Berry just nodded. 

Ten minutes later, the steel door struggled to open, scrapping the floor until it was slide completely to the side. A woman who had to be in her late nineties by the little amounts of gray in her hair and few wrinkles stepped through offering a smile. Quinn could not see much through the opening, though a few empty cages sat near the entrance. “Sorry bout the wait,” she said. “Caught a fresh one a few miles north of here and she’s a bit lively of one.”

“Fuck you bitch, when I get out of here-“ the voice echoed through the other side. Quinn should have recognized it. Did, but the name of its owner slipped her mind. 

“Quiet down before you get tazed again,” she turned and shouted back. “Sorry again.”

“It’s all good,” Mr. L Berry said. “How are you, Maria?”

“I’d be peachy if that bitch of a coyote didn’t try to scratch me each time I got close.”

“You fucking deserve it, cause I am not an animal,” girl shouted again. Really, the name was on the tip of her tongue. 

“Excuse me a second,” she smiled at them and walked back through the door. 

“I know that voice,” Quinn said, speaking only for Rachel. “I should know that voice.”

“Then who is it?”

“I fucking warned you, asshat, I’m gonna-“ There was a loud buzz and then silence followed. 

Maria came back through and dropped the cattle prod next to the door. “Now, let’s get down to business.”

“Do you always treat the familiars like that?” Rachel asked.

“Of course not,” she replied. “That’d be inhumane.”

“Then why do that to her, clearly she didn’t want to be here, and especially since she is intelligent.”

“Intelligence is debatable on that one,” Maria said. “Spirit Coyotes have been known to be mimics, so it’s difficult to know, exactly. Don’t worry bout it.”

“Still, it’s horrible to treat her like that,” Rachel looked up Quinn. She stood as still as possible, squeezing her pendant. 

Maria shrugged, then turned to Mr. L Berry. “So, this the familiar?”

“Yeah, found her hiding in the forest nearby, and Rachel just fell in love with her, and she seems rather attached, so figure better make it all legal.” Mr. L Berry looked back at them briefly, trying to smile at Quinn, but it barely reached the sides of his mouth. Mr. H Berry touched her shoulder and she struggled to remain in the touch. Rachel moved closer to her. 

“Course,” Maria said. “I just have a few pages that you need to fill out and then we’ll discuss payment.” She dug through the massive amount of files until she pulled a small folder and held it out for them.

“Sounds fair,” he replied. “Hiram’ll take the forms, and they can go to the waiting room to fill it out while we discuss the logistics” Mr. H Berry stepped forward and took it, looking it over with his husband. 

“Santana,” Quinn said. 

“What?” Rachel looked up at her.

“It is Santana, Rachel,” she repeated. “The voice. I have heard that tone for so long at cheer practice.”

“Santana Lopez?” Quinn nodded. Rachel frowned for a moment. “Daddy!”

“Yes, Star,” Mr. L Berry turned around. 

“I want another one,” She said. 

“What?” Mr. H Berry joined his husband in staring at them.

“Santana, the spirit coyote, I want her too,” 

“It’s a great deal of responsibility to take care of one familiar, let alone two,” Maria said. “And you’re so young. I don’t want to run the risk of a familiar running rampant because you couldn’t handle it.”

“We are not leaving her in this conditions,” Rachel said. “I am not leaving her to be tortured and hurt.”

Mr. L Berry looked at them, stared at his daughter for only a second then focused on Quinn. She wanted to look away, but she held his gaze, keeping her face as smooth and empty as possible. “Please?” Rachel said. But neither of them moved. “Dad? Daddy? It won’t be an issue. She’ll listen. I promise.”

“It’s Leroy’s decision,” Mr. H Berry said. The tall man held her gaze, just waiting for something, though Quinn did not know for what. She could not let her friend stay here, be treated like this, even if it put her in the same position as her. She would not. Even if she had to run away from Rachel to save her. Even if she and Santana were not really friends, not any more, even if it appeared otherwise at school. 

“Fine,” the man finally said. “The spirit coyote too.” Quinn exhaled, and Rachel smiled brightly at her parents. She looked down and let a small smile cross her lips. 

Maria showed no emotion. “They are rather difficult to handle and-“

“Please, Maria, once Rachel has made her mind up,” he replied, “it takes an act of God himself to change it, and even then it’s difficult.” 

“Yep,” Rachel said.

“Quiet,” Mr. H Berry said. 

Could they even handle two familiars, let along human ones? Humanoid ones? Whatever term of what they were? Or worse, could they afford it? “Only reason I’m even allowing this because I know who you are, Leroy, you know that?”

“Course,” he said. “Wouldn’t think there’d be a reason otherwise.”

“Fine,” Maria said, and pulled another file. “Fill these out, and you have to get her out of her cage. Brat of a familiar is probably awake already.”

Mr. H Berry took them without another word and led them out of the room. Why could they not stay there? She knew that many of the deals her father made were backdoor, but she did not expect the Berry’s to make similar ones. They seemed so, Quinn figured the best word would be nice. Nothing like her father or his associates.

Rachel sat next to her father and made Quinn sit in front of her so she could run her fingers through her hair. When she stopped, she told her that they were finished and thirty minutes had passed. “Oh, sorry,” Quinn said. 

“You were adorable, so don’t be,” Rachel said. “You okay with sharing me?”

Quinn shrugged. “I would be wrong to leave her here.”

“True,” Rachel said. “I doubt she’d be as well behaved as you.”

“How do you know I am well behaved?”

“Please, sweetie, you’ve let me get my way so far, caving on everything,” she replied, “so don’t tell me you’re not.”

Quinn did not reply. 

“C’mon girls,” Mr. H Berry said, standing up. 

They followed him back inside, and the room was even messy and dirty. In fact, the single file cabinet had a dent in the side, and she smelt ash and burnt hair. But neither were injured or at least did not show it. “Just go in back and get her,” Maria said, and handed Mr. L Berry a collar and lease. “You’ll need on for that one, but it’d be better if the spirit coyote was bound sooner rather than later.” 

“Fair enough,” Rachel said. She stepped around her father and grabbed it from Maria. “Which way to her?”

“Just follow the complaining, you can’t miss her,” Maria said. 

“Hiram, maybe you should-“

“I’ll be fine, Daddy,” Rachel said. “I have Quinn.” She tugged on her elbow and they left to go into the pit of cages and chains. 

Quinn tried her hardest not to see anything in there, to ignore every other creature they passed, as well as the various tools to bind them. She tried so hard, but some slip through her HBIC mask, and she knew she would never erase them. The cat-o’nine tails was one of them, at least the one with glass and rust on the tips. 

“You’re safe, sweetie,” Rachel said, and patted her hand. “Just stay with me, and we’ll get Santana free and we can leave this torture house.” 

They followed the groans and the light complaining, well, Rachel followed it and Quinn just followed her. She knew it was only five minutes, she counted the seconds, but it felt so much closer, especially when she closed her eyes halfway through. The hands on her elbow never left her, and her pendant kept her there, kept her from listening to the sounds of things locked in cages, of beings withheld daylight, warm, and decent food. Like Bacon. How hard would it be to persuade Rachel to stop to get her some bacon?

“Go away, bitch,” Santana moaned. Quinn opened her eyes to see her teammate sprawled on a pile of hay, face down, and there was probably drool. Santana drooled when she slept. Brittany thought it was adorable. It was not when they ended up sharing pillows, or rather, when Santana decided they were sharing pillows. Cheerleading trips were certainly interesting then. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

“That’s not very nice,” Rachel said. 

“The fuck, Berry,” Santana replied, but did not move. “Bitch caught you too? Just my fucking luck.”

“You are getting drool on your uniform,” Quinn said. Not that she was actually wearing it. Wherever she had been Santana had been caught wearing jeans and a pink, of all colors, tank top, no socks or belt. It was strange to see her without some sort of fashionable clothing. 

“Q? You’re fucking here too? Just my fucking luck, both the bitches who make my life fucking miserable.” She rolled to her side and glared at her. 

“I resent that.” Rachel stomped the ground. “What have I ever done to you? You’re the one who-“

“Rachel, may we please argue someplace else?” Quinn gripped her pendant tighter. She focused solely on the Latina in front of her. 

“Right, this place is horrible,” Rachel held out the collar, leash already connected to it. 

“The fuck is that?” Santana finished rolling over and directed her glare at Rachel, and Quinn felt a growl in her chest, but swallowed it before it could escape. It was not right.

“Your collar?”

“You much be fucking crazier than I thought, because I am-“

“They will sell you off to the first wizard who wants a sex toy,” Quinn said. “The first one who walks through that door and says that they could handle such a “spirited animal” and break her, just to show her who’s really in charge. They will do whatever they want to you because they can, because they do not view you as human, even though you are just a teenager. All because it’s in the name of taming an intelligent familiar.”

Santana pulled her knees up to her chest and turned slightly. “Why do you care?”

Quinn shrugged. Because that was to be her life. Her pendant in hand, she knew that now. When before the blinders her father gave her kept everything out. Including self-preservation.

“I do,” Rachel said softly. She let go of Quinn and stepped forward to the cage. She wanted to follow, to put her hands back on her, keep the skin to skin contact that kept her from losing it. But Quinn stayed still.

Rachel crouched down and leaned her forehead against the bars. “You hate me for some strange reason, and have done your worst to make my life hell.”

“Then you should just leave me here if you think that. If you hate me that much.” There was almost a crack in her voice, just a slight break, but it was covered by the fierce tone that always exited from her mouth.

“No one deserves this, Santana,” Rachel replied. “And I never hated you.”

“Why? I was the worst, well, second worst, Q there has that title,” Santana said.

Rachel shrugged and held out the collar again. “Because sometimes, the people who hurt others can be hurting themselves. I think we forget that, and it’d be wrong of me to say that I like you all that much, but I don’t hate you.”

“Then you’re in an elite club, Treasure Trial, with just one other person.” 

Rachel looked over at Quinn. She stood as far as she could away from cage as she could but still be with a step of her. “You aren’t friends?”

“I told you the truth,” she answered.

“But at school?”

“The Unholy Trinity can’t be broken,” Santana said, “can’t seem weak or things would collapse in on itself. Q saw that. Even if she was a frigid bitch who needs to have someone replace that stick up her ass with another stick.”

“And Santana agreed with me, despite being the angry slut who spreads her legs for anything with a heartbeat, if rumors are true.” 

“Well that type of relationship isn’t going to work,” Rachel said. “As my two familiars, I won’t stand for it.”

“Familiar, what the-“ Santana looked at Quinn. “You? You’re a fucking familiar? How did that shit come up?”

Quinn let go of her pendant and felt the air dance behind her, her seven tails brushing her legs and grazing a few cages behind her. She covered her pendant and wrapped her other arm around her stomach, willing her tails away.

“Shit, Q,” Santana said. “That’s fucking hot. And seven of them? Even fucking hotter.”

“You know what she is?”

“Course, anyone worth their weight in anything knows what a fucking kitsune is,” Santana said.

“Even if it is year thirteen Magibiology,” Quinn smirked.

“Damn straight, fuckers can’t read.”

“Then you understand what’s going on? Good, take the collar and get out of here,” Rachel shook the collar at her.

“Fine, because you asked so fucking nicely.” Santana crawled over slowly. The cage was not even tall enough for her to sit up fully. Her hand shook as she reached out, but after a few seconds, she grabbed the leather and wrapped it around her neck. 

“Looks good on you, S,” Quinn said. “Though did not expect you to put it on so quickly.”

“If it gets me fucking out of here, fine then. Whatever.”

“Not denying you’re a coyote?” she asked. Rachel stood up and took the lock in her hand, staring at the runes on it.

“Fuck no, that shit’s awesome,” Santana smiled at her. “Do you how easily it is to sneak about when you’re practically transparent? The fucking things people say when they’re thinking no one’s around them? Best blackmail ever.”

“You are sounding like Wheezy and Porcelain.”

“You take that back. You fucking take that back right now.” There was a smile on her face. Maybe without her father, she could be friends. They would be friends again. Santana was not all that bad, certainly not with the only person she seemed to like. It would be nice to be on the other side of that anger for once. 

“Quiet,” Rachel said. “Maria didn’t give me a key, so it’ll take me a moment to break this.” She traced her fingers over the various carvings, sticking her tongue out. Was that a hint of metal?

“Wait, you can read runes?” Quinn stepped over to her, and looked over her shoulder.

“Some,” Rachel said. “How do you think I got into the library in the first place?”

“The fuck you doing in a library, Q?” Santana asked. She played with her collar, lounging back as though she was not stuck in some cage, waiting to be set free.

“I needed to hide somewhere,” she said. “Seemed like the best place to since it was the last one my father would check.”

“Why would, oh, fucker took that didn’t he?” Santana asked. Quinn nodded. “No, I feel kinda bad about all that frigid bitch crap.”

“Kinda?” Quinn smiled. 

Santana held up two fingers, very little space between them. “Poquito.” 

“I like that you are getting along,” Rachel said. She squeezed the lock and pulled, the metal turning to ash in her hands. “Or at least, not calling each other names and trying to hurt each other.”

“We can be civil,” Quinn said.

“How the fuck do you think we get through school,” Santana said. Rachel pulled the door open and she scrambled through the opening, climbing as quickly to her feet as possible. The diva held onto the end of the leash the entire time. Santana stared at it and slowly looked up at Rachel, similar smile on her face like the one she gave Quinn earlier. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, and took Quinn’s elbow again. “Ready to go.”

“What about Q’s collar? Shit ain’t fair if she isn’t wearing one,” Santana said as they walked through the warehouse. Quinn closed her eyes, pulled her pendant up under her chin and her arms in, and hunched her shoulders. Rachel would lead them out; she was not required for this trip. 

“We’re picking it up when we leave,” Rachel said. “Had to register her and everything you know.”

“Right,” Santana said. “And you didn’t take that?” 

“Her pendant? No why would it?”

“Huh. No reason.” There was a very good reason. With just holding her pendant, specifically the opal within it, a person had power over her. Could shape her, mold her to their needs, use her magic and her body for whatever purpose they wished. It was how her father had completely control over her mind and body. She went from Lucy Caboosey to Quinn Fabray in a matter of months, though took years to return, because he desired it so. 

“I trust Quinn, just like I trust you,” Rachel said. 

“Stupid to trust me.”

Rachel stopped short and pulled on Quinn’s arm when she kept walking. She opened her eyes; Rachel stood in front of Santana and cupping her face with her free hand, the end of the leash around her wrist. The Latina was only slightly taller than the diva, but it seemed strange to see her lean into the touch. “Never doubt yourself, not with me, okay?” Rachel said. “You are worth the trust and the heartache, and all the things that come with being a friend.”

“It’s not right how easily you calm me and make me feel better,” Santana said. “Stupid familiar bond.” She sniffed and wiped a tear away, but had a smile on her face. Was that what it was? The faint tug on her every time Rachel looked away, every time she spoke and felt like she did something wrong, that she wanted her praise and acceptance. The elation, however small, at the smile she received for being good. Was that what it was?

“Then I guess it was meant to be that you were meant to be with me.” Rachel smiled. “C’mon. I don’t want to stay in here any longer.” 

The walk back was much quicker, though Quinn kept her eyes closed most of the time. She did not open them until they were back out of the office with the Berry’s. “You gonna be able to take care of them, Star?” Mr. H Berry asked. 

Santana snorted.

“Of course,” Rachel said. “I’ll feed them, and love them, and cuddle with them, and make sure they don’t make messes and-“

“I’m not a puppy,” Santana said. 

“I bet in your coyote form you are adorable,” Quinn added. She received a glare from Santana and a laugh from Rachel. 

“Well, I am glad to see that you three are at least happy with this arrangement, though I doubt that it was something either of you two were looking for,” Mr. L Berry said. “Star, go get Quinn a collar and leash. The laws are pretty strict regarding familiars, even intelligent ones. Grab a leash too.”

“At least someone recognizes my brains,” Santana said. 

Mr. H Berry laughed. “I like this one. Gonna keep Star here on her toes.”

Rachel turned to Santana and stuck a finger in her face. “You behave, missy. I won’t have you acting out.”

Santana nipped at her finger, smiling the entire time. She frowned once she pulled back. “Stupid familiar bond.”

Was that it? Quinn had not done much reading on the subject, her tastes, even with her father’s influence, was more on the classical canon. But the emotion, the need to make Rachel happy and like her, to support her and be nicer to her? It was either the strange bond or the real Quinn growing, without any influence over her. 

She did not have a problem with the idea. 

“We should probably contact your parents, Santana, at least let them know where you are,” Mr. H Berry said. 

Santana shrugged. “Ma won’t miss me, too. Just one less mouth to feed in the end.” 

Mr. Berry’s frowned, but said nothing. It was common knowledge that Santana was the youngest of seven in a household of a single mother, and three of her older brothers were still in school at the other building, grades eleven through fourteen, with a brother and her two sisters away at apprenticeships or college. As hard as she worked, she had to make do with little on. No one dared to bring it up at school. Between Cheerleading and Quinn, no one ever would.” 

“We’ll have to get you some clothing, at least until we can pick yours up.” 

“So more shopping?” Rachel asked, bouncing. 

“I have no idea where she got this love of shopping,” Mr. L Berry said. “Hiram or I hate going to the mall.”

“If you like the mall so much Berry what’s with the animal sweaters from last year or the dark, dead, and dreary get up you have now?” Santana asked. 

Rachel grabbed her hand and smiled at her. “Besides liking the way I look-“

“Never said there’s anything wrong with rocking tight jeans,” she added.

“These cloths are easier to clean, and the animal sweaters were cheap.” 

“Oh,” Santana looked down and Quinn looked away. “Now I feel worse. Seriously, this bond is-“

“You can’t blame the bond for everything,” Rachel replied.

“I can fucking try.”

“That and curbing your language, kay?”

“Fine, I’ll work at it.” Rachel smiled at her and kissed her cheek. Quinn let go of her pendant and touched her own, a slight warmth there. Then Rachel had to kiss hers and the warmth was more pervasive and overpowering. Stupid bond was right. Santana blushed and smirked, though did not look away. 

“Let’s go forth and finish up here,” Rachel said and dragged her two familiars with her to find the last of the items they need. 

Ten minutes later, they stood in the checkout lane, and Quinn was trying to adjust the ice blue leather collar that sat around her neck, hiding most of her pendant under it and the tag on the front. Santana’s dirty and mangy one was replaced with a bright red collar, with added fuzz on the inside. She swore it was Rachel’s idea and that she did not pick it out. Both were lies. Their leashes were a bit longer too, so while Rachel rambled on to the cashier, they stood back a bit. 

Quinn did not like the silence.

Which was shattered by a squeal. Santana’s face blossomed into a large smile and she nearly pulled away from Rachel, but only took a few steps towards the source, but it was enough to receive the tall blonde missile in her arms. 

Brittany S. Pierce, yes the full name is important and anyone who said otherwise was wrong, was one person in the world who Santana never raised her voice to, never called her stupid, or hurt her in any way possible. No one did. It was the eleventh commandment at school, and the first time it was broken during last year, the year twelve apprentice was never seen again. Santana had a hand in it, and Quinn may or may not have had something to do with it as well. Her father never received a straight answer, no matter how much he pushed.

“Sannie! What are you doing here?” she asked. If happiness and energy could be bottled and sold, the world’s energy crisis would be solved in weeks thanks to Brittany, and there would still be a surplus. “Are we playing a game that I didn’t know about, because that is a really cute collar and I remember you talking about wanting one, but we never-“

“Hey B,” Santana said and hugged her tighter, pressing her head against her chest. “I missed you.”

“Sorry bout not having you over, but Grandma was being a pain and wanted it family only, and I tried to explain that you were family, just not blood, but I think I got confused, and started to talk about bunnies and duckies.” She looked over Santana and smiled brightly at Quinn. “Quinn! You’re alive.”

“I am,” she replied, and returned to smile. 

“And you have one too.”

“What?” Santana pulled away, moving so she could wrap one arm around the girl. 

“Collar! And a leash, it’s cute,” Brittany said. She followed it back to Rachel who had decided that boring the cashier was too much and wanted to see what her familiars were up to. “To Rachie? Even better. Wait here.” 

“Huh?” Rachel said as Brittany ran off. 

“I have no idea,” Quinn said.

“Just go with it, please,” Santana asked. She walked back to Rachel and stood to her side, a smile as she watched Brittany run to who Quinn could only assume was her parents and talking with them frantically. Arm waving and interpretative dance included. 

“The world is ending.” Quinn stepped to the other side.

“Huh?” Rachel looked between them.

“Santana said please.”

“Shut it, Q.” 

“See you can speak without swearing.”

“Shut it, B.” But Santana never lost her smile. Quinn had been so used to seeing a frown or scowl on her face that the timid look should have been off putting. It was, but not in a way that she had expected. It was cute and she wanted to wrap her in a hug. Lord, she was getting soft. Maybe this was who she actually was. 

Brittany ran back to them, a yellow cotton collar in one hand and a long yellow leash in the other. “What’s this?” Rachel asked.

“I’m a familiar, like them,” She replied. She stood a few inches above Quinn, so she was almost a head over Rachel. 

“I don’t-“

“I’m a fierce rabbit of caerbannog,” she said. She clawed at the air. “And you need to tame me. So take my leash”

A tall man with bright gray hair and a sweater vest came and join them as the Mr. Berry’s walked over, everything paid for, she guessed. “So what’s this about a rabbit?”

“That’s me,” Brittany said to them. “Hi Hiram, hi Leroy.”

“Bunny,” the other man said. 

“That’s right, see,” Brittany added, “even daddy agrees. I am a rabbit of caerbannog. Rawr! I’m dynamite.”

Mr. Pierce’s smile mimicked Santana’s, but softer, kinder. He stood taller than his daughter by over a foot and easily towered over all of them. Quinn did not feel afraid of a tall man for once. “I’m sorry bout my daughter, but she is rather insistent that your young girl take her on as a familiar.”

“She has to,” Brittany said. “I am fierce and dangerous and require a proper wizard to ensure that I do not harm anyone.”

“But, bunny,” Mr. Pierce replied. “She already has two to take care of and-“

“Quinn is too well behaved because of her crazy daddy, and Santana’s wrapped around my finger, no I’m the only one she’d have to train. So please, please, please, please, please.” 

Mr. L Berry snorted and covered his mouth. “How much?” he asked, though struggled.

“Daddy! You can’t just buy a person.” Rachel turned and glared at him, stomping her foot. “It’s almost as bad as caging Santana like that.”

“But I’m a not person,” Brittany said. “I’m a rabbit of caerbannog, and you’re my wizard. I even have the paperwork that says so.” She pulled a thick set of papers from her back pocket and unfolded them before handing it to Mr. H Berry. “See all there, third familiar of one Rachel B. Berry. It’s written down, it’s fact. It’s law.” 

“Well, Star,” Mr. H Berry said. “It seems things are in order, a price just needs to be settled on.” He flipped through the pages, though barely read anything, a slight grin on his face. 

“Ten dollars,” Brittany said. 

“Now, sweetie, don’t get greedy. Are you sure you’re worth that much?” Mr. Pierce said.

“Fine, eight, I guess,” Brittany pouted. 

“I don’t understand.” Rachel looked back and forth between her fathers and Mr. Pierce.

“I trust that your daughter will take good care of mine?” Mr. Pierce asked.

“Of course,” Mr. L Berry smiled at her. “Rachel is probably one of more the responsible teenagers we know. Certainly one of the few that choices to stay home on Friday nights, if that is an indication of responsibility.” Rachel smiled, though it was not her carefree she offered Quinn or her gentle one for Santana. It was a Broadway smile, large and bright, and fake. Quinn looked at her feet and tried not to think about it. She and Santana were the reasons behind that. And they all knew it. 

“Star, do you have eight dollars?” Mr. H Berry said.

“I don’t, Daddy what’s going on?”

“There has apparently been a mix-up and you didn’t pay for your third familiar,” he replied. 

“I never got-“ Santana elbowed Rachel in the side. She tried to glare, but between Brittany’s puppy dog eyes and Santana’s non-angry ones, all she did was sigh. “Fine, I guess, if that’s what happened.” The puppy-dog eyes dissolved away, and Brittany threw her arms around her neck. When she pulled back, she withdraw eight dollars from Rachel’s wallet and handed it back to her. 

“Eight dollars for me, right daddy?” Brittany asked.

“Course, cupcake.” He took the money and shook both of the Berry’s hand. “I appreciate this. She was rather insistent about it.”

“No problem, James,” Mr. H Berry said. 

Brittany forced the collar into Rachel’s hand and guided them to put it on her. Santana stepped over them, sliding underneath Brittany’s arm as she bounced, actually bounced. Quinn stood back, the leash almost taught. 

“Q? You okay?” Brittany asked. She stepped out of Rachel’s arms and glided over to her. She could not look up, instead focusing on the few bags of owl and cat food, which strangely came in the same bag. 

“Are you mad at me?” She shook her head. “Are you mad? No, it’s not anger. It’s fear.” She lifted her head by her chin and stared at her, blue eyes focused solely on her. “You’re not going anywhere. Okay? I joined you two so we could be friends, the way we were. You’re not going anywhere.” 

“Sweetie?” Rachel stepped over, under Brittany, and wrapped Quinn in her arms. “You are not allowed to be upset.”

“You cannot order people like that,” Quinn said. Please do not order me like that, she hoped Rachel heard. Brittany pried her hand from her collar, her opal, but did not let it go. 

“Good thing we’re not people, right Q?” Brittany said. “C’mon, let’s get away from here and keep you safe. Because that’s what this is about, right? To get you away from your dad?”

“You knew?” Rachel asked. Brittany nodded.

“She wasn’t ready yet, she hadn’t found it yet,” Brittany said. “Now, enough sadness. We need to get Quinnie and Sannie cloths, which is stupid because we’re familiars and familiars don’t wear cloths, but you three’d probably get embarrassed about it, so for now I guess I’ll continue to wear them now, but this is a conversation we’re having later, kay? Good.” She drug Quinn over to Santana and took her hand, then smiled at Rachel.

Goodbyes were said, hugs were given, though Quinn did not pay attention too much. Brittany made Santana stand close to her, make sure she was okay, even if they were all connected to Rachel’s wrist by their leashes. One hand was in Santana’s, the other Brittany pulled away from her collar occasionally, stepping away from the conversation that she, Rachel, and the parents were having. 

Ten minutes of small talk had passed, and Rachel was leading them out the door. The Berry’s small car had only three seats in the back, and Brittany forced Quinn to sit in her lap, while Rachel sit between her and Santana. The rest of them talked, filling up the air, what was needed, how their Winter Breaks were going prior to the whole familiar thing, what was happening of school. Brittany rubbed her back, and Rachel drew circles on the back of hand. 

Things had changed so much, so rapidly, and now they changed even more. She had partly accepted the whole required to be a familiar aspect. It was a strange thing, but she had most of her freedom back, at least no one telling her how to thing. Then they found Santana, and the whole idea of familiar bond, then Brittany who knew more than she should, knew more about her home life then was proper. 

Both of them being nice to her, not just civil, but nice, was an even stranger idea that she still did not know how to wrap her head around that change.

But Rachel touched her, making sure she was there, was with them. Brittany held her, keeping her together. And Santana smiled at her, which was the strangest thing she ever saw and wanted to keep seeing it. 

Everything had changed so much, and maybe it could be for the better. It had to be. The alternative was not acceptable.


	2. Shopping kinda sucks

Shopping was a chore. It really was. Rachel learned that keeping track of Brittany was a difficult task under normal circumstances, but apparently, since becoming a familiar, she had the energy of ten thousand suns. While Santana was probably exaggerating, it did not stop her from pulling the entire time they walked from store to store. At least, when Quinn was trying things on, a task that also required patience, she quieted down. Then Santana spoke up and started to complain with her own cloths, so even more patience was needed. Having to hold their leashes was another issue, though in the changing rooms she dropped them. A few people stared, well, more than a few, but she had expected nothing else. It was just annoying to get these looks. 

The problem was that Rachel, by nature and nurture, was not a patient person. She had some grand illusion that having three intelligent familiars meant she’d barely have to do anything and they’d listen to every command. This foolish notion was probably why her fathers spent the entire time hiding their laughter and smirks at her, whenever they returned from their own shopping. 

The worst part was when she snapped at Quinn for taking too long to try on the fiftieth (really it wasn’t that many, Santana was exaggerating) shirt and pair of pants she gave her and stepped out to model them, complaining about the fact that none of them were fitting properly, a lie, but that was another issue. It wasn’t that cruel of a statement, certainly not like the ones she was used to from the Unholy Trinity, really they were, even if none of them had demon blood in them. Sure a bit harsh, but Rachel demanded the best, and by god, Quinn was beautiful enough that the right cloths made it heavenly. So damnit, she’d wear the best cloths. And it wasn’t bad that she got to order the HBIC of McKinley Academy around.

The effort and slight revenge was worthless because she made Quinn cry, in her quiet and hidden way, for the first time ever probably. It was also the first time either Brittany or Santana saw it, because they didn’t move when Quinn nodded, a single tear rolling down her cheek, and walked back inside. She was out a few minutes later, handed Rachel a few blouses and two pairs of jeans, and didn’t say a word when she gave her leash back to her. Her cheeks were wet, and her shoulders slumped, but she couldn’t see much of her face, her head hung. The worst part was how she kept her hand on her pendant and never faced her. 

She didn’t say another word the entire time, and her other two familiars were a lot more subdued. They ended the shopping experience shortly after. 

Santana sat in the middle and tried to engage Rachel in a game on her Daddy’s phone, while Quinn sat on Brittany’s lap, staring out the window and shrinking in on herself. Her dads talked most of the time, though, they were met with mostly one word answers, maybe a few short sentences. 

Back in Lima, Brittany helped Rachel unload all the bags stuffed in the trunk, while Dad took Quinn and Santana inside. “I messed up, didn’t I?” Rachel asked Brittany.

“It’ll be a learning experience,” she answered when she reaching for something in the back.

“But, still,” Rachel said, “I screwed up royally with her, right?”

“This is new,” Brittany said. “There’s gonna be some rough patches.”

“I just thought…”

“That it’d be nice to have three friends, three people who were your age and would talk to you, enjoy your presence and basically support you in everything, no matter what. Who’d listen to you and do as you say, no matter what. Who weren’t really your friends, but your servants?” Brittany pulled out the last bag and barely smiled.

Rachel looked away. She was right, but she’d never admit it, at least not right away. Maybe in a year or two. 

“Friends don’t work that way. Love doesn’t work that.”

“We’re not talking about love.” Brittany raised an eyebrow, eerily reminiscent of Quinn. “Fine, not love-love.”

Her eyebrow didn’t fall, but at least she nodded slowly. “Friends accept you for who you are at your worst, and will be there when that time comes. It’s a measure of people who stick around when things are at their worst.”

“And that this time for Quinn?”

“Kinda? I mean, her whole life is over and this is brand new for her, choices and ideas of her own, not just what her father made her do. So, yeah, things are gonna be a bit slow for her. Sannie and I, we’ll adjust faster, but Quinn’s gonna take some time getting used to this and is gonna make mistakes, she’s gonna struggle and be quiet and defiant in her own way. We all are. Even you.”

“Yeah,” Rachel said. Brittany tugged on her leash, how the hell was she holding three-quarters of the bags with ease, and they walked into the house. “I see that now.”

“It’s okay, Rach, just make sure you apologize, and soon, cause she’s blaming herself already, that it’s her fault you snapped at her, that she missed up and hurt you. And not just because of the bond.”  
Rachel felt that bond, at least the very beginnings of it, the hints of the Unholy Trinity on the edge of her mind. Nothing really exact or definitive, but she knew they were there. Santana and Dad promised to talk to her more about it, sometime before school started, when they got into their schedules again. Another problem she’d have to make sure was dealt with. 

Daddy told them he’d ordered pizza, including her vegan ones. Dad and Santana were seated at the counter, and talking about some medical or biomagical thing that Rachel knew she’d never really follow. Without a word from her, Brittany hung her leash on the coat hooks near the kitchen door, right next to a blue one. “Where’s Quinn?” Rachel asked.

“She said she wasn’t hungry and went upstairs, to the guest room I think,” Daddy said. Rachel frowned and looked away, his gaze never leaving her. The times she messed up, especially when she was impatient and a brat, he was the one to discipline her, or at least admonish her.

“Alright, umm,” Rachel looked back and forth at the bags. “Brittany can you-“

“I’ll put them in our room,” She smiled and practically bounced upstairs. That wasn’t what Rachel was going to say, but it would have to do for on. They’d figure out sleeping arrangements later. 

“Right, I’ll be right back.” She followed Brittany, almost running upstairs, her black short skirt swishing around her fishnets and boxer briefs. 

Rachel passed walked carefully to not disturb Quinn and dropped, almost threw, her bags into her room. The door to the guest room was closed, and she knew the light was off. The thread that was Quinn was blue and quiet. But she wasn’t sleeping, Rachel hoped. She shouldn’t be. And if she was, then she’d make the mistake of waking her up to talk. 

She opened the door just enough to slip in, and closed it as softly as she could. The entire room was dark, the thick blinds pulled and every light fixture, including the clock on the small dresser was covered. There were sounds either, not loud enough for regular hearing. 

Rachel inched her way over to the bed and crawled onto it. Quinn was lying on her side, facing away from the door. Her shoulders barely moved, and her breath was incredible steady with long pauses between each extended inhale and exhale, but she was crying. 

She lied down and slide until she could wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her flush. It would be awkward and she knew Quinn would notice her, but it was too important to let the pretty blonde cry. She flinched at the touch, and Rachel’s heart hurt at the fact she put that frightened nature into her. Or maybe brought it out fully. “Hey,” Rachel whispered. 

Quinn remained still.

Rachel took a deep breath in. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

“I do not deserve it.”

“What?”

“Sweetie,” she said.

“And why not?”

“I was bad. I messed up. I was going too slow and-“

“None of that,” Rachel said. “I was wrong, sweetie. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. You were fine. Everything is fine.”

“No, it is not,” Quinn said. “I am so sorry about taking so long, I should have just been silent and done as you asked, instead of complaining and whining about it all of it, not when you and Mr. Berry’s are being so kind to let me stay here.” 

“I’m not gonna take it, Sweetie,” Rachel replied. “I swore, remember.”

“I know, but that does not mean-“

“It means everything, don’t you doubt that. Your pendant, your jewel, I can tell it’s extremely important to you, even more than you’d admit. I would never deprive you of that, not something like that. Other things-“

“Like food? Sleep? Warmth?”

“What no, never that. Who would do. Oh,” Rachel pulled her even tighter against her, burying her nose in her hair. She smelled wonderful, lilac and vanilla. “Never, never would anything happen like that. I will not treat you like that. Any of you. You’re too important, too special to ever do that to. ”

“But,” Quinn sniffed once, then raised a hand to her face. 

“No buts, even though yours is extremely cute,” Rachel kissed her head. “I may get mad, you may get mad at me.” Quinn shook her head. “Hush you, I’m a pain, I know, so don’t think I’m not gonna piss any of you off. But no matter what happens, that will never happen. I would never hit any of you, unless it was for fun and you wanted me to, then we’d discuss boundaries and everything and- are you blushing?”

“No,” she drew out the word and turned into her pillow.

“It’s so cute.” She squirmed and rubbed against her. Rachel held back a noise that was extremely unlady like, and felt herself harden just a little. Quinn made no motion that she noticed. “Seriously, though, Brittany was right, this is gonna be tough. There are four extremely strong willed girls in this house now, and while I may be your owner, legally, I know that none of you are ever gonna fully accept that, because, well, owning a person is wrong. No matter how hot you are.”

“You are flirting with me now,” Quinn muttered into the pillow. 

“Yes. Is it cheering you up?”

“Why?”

“Because life is short and you are hot.”

“That is a Doctor Who quote.”

“Nerd.” Quinn was silent, but nodded. “Can you face me?”

She shrugged.

“Will you?” A minute passed before Quinn slowly rolled over, keeping Rachel’s arm around her. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You said that already.”

“I know, but it bears repeating.” Quinn shrugged and rubbed her eyes. “Everything okay.” Another shrug. “I’d appreciate some words.”

“I left my contacts in,” she said, rubbing again. Rachel her hand away, and gave a small smile.

“Do you need to take them out? Where are you glasses?” Rachel rolled slightly, reaching for the lamp. She kept her arm under Quinn right where it was. 

“At my house, in my room,” she said.

Rachel paused and rolled back slowly, pushing her to her back. “Sweetie, how long have you been wearing those contacts?” Quinn turned into the bed, though continued to rub her eyes that way. “Again, I’d like to hear your voice. It’s very pretty.” A muffled reply came from the bed. She sighed and pushed on her shoulder until she was lying flat on the bed, and she was straddling her. Quinn squirmed, trying to scratch her eyes, but Rachel pinned her arms and shoulders. “Was it since you escaped?” 

Quinn nodded. 

“Oh, sweetie,” Rachel leaned down on kissed her forehead. She stopped moving, and opened her eyes. “I’ll take care of it, kay? Just get those out and clean up. Having them in that long is bad for you.”

“I washed them every day.”

“With what? Water?” Quinn nodded. “That is not proper, why – stupid question never mind. You get cleaned up, get those out of your eyes and go down stairs. Some food would do you some good.” 

“I am not hungry,” Quinn said. Her stomach growled beneath her. 

“Go, please,” Rachel smiled softly. 

“What about you? Are you going to eat?”

“In a bit, there’s something I need to do.” Rachel kissed her forehead and pushed off of her, sliding to the edge of the bed and standing up. 

“Please, do not do something foolish on my account.”

“Like breaking into the library? Please, I am always careful.” She turned to leave but paused. “Just how good is your house’s security?”

!-!-!-!-!-!

Quinn took out her contacts and threw them as asked. Ordered? Requested? The actual meaning did not matter, though the result ended up being the same. She did as Rachel wanted. And it was not a bad thing. Her eyes did not hurt anymore, and while she could not see well, at least she was more comfortable. 

Everything was a bit blurry, but her astigmatism was not horrible enough to leave her blind. Shapes and colors were still evident, just the edges of them dissolved into each other. She walked down the hallway and the stairs with enough ease, though stubbed her toe against a table that jumped out at her. The dark made it more difficult than it should, but she always had good spatial awareness. 

“Hey Q,” Santana said. “You good?”

“Where is Rachel?” she asked. 

“Gone. Said she had something she needed to do, and that we should stay here.” Quinn played with her collar and pendant. “You know where she went?”

“To my house. To get my things, I guess.” Santana just nodded. “She should not have done that. My father-“

“Isn’t as smart as he thinks he is. The hobbit will be fine. Pizza’s here, and you should eat something. Get some meat back on those bones.” Santana’s voice waivered just a bit, though steadied out as she spoke. 

“Even though pizza is not on the accepted foods list.”

“Fuck that list,” Santana said with a smile, “our wizard told us to eat it, and even Sue can’t argue against that.” She stepped forward and grabbed her elbow, dragging her towards the kitchen. 

Brittany was seated at the counter, three large pieces on her plate and a mound of parmesan cheese. Mr. L Berry was leaning against the oven, watching the news on a small tv in the corner. Mr. H Berry was not there. 

“Q!” Brittany said, but did not move. “Come, they have bacon on one.” Bacon did sound good. It always sounded good. 

“Right,” Mr. L Berry said, “Brittany mentioned that bacon was the best way to get your attention.”

“Other than throwing something,” Santana added. “Apparently, that is frowned upon in this establishment.” Quinn looked down and smiled. She moved slowly, carefully, towards Brittany’s outstretched hand. She took it, and gave a gentle squeeze before pulling her into her side. Brittany kissed the top of her head. Quinn fought her smile from growing any bigger.

Dinner was strange. The few times she had pizza was pre-high school, when her father had yet to dictate her entire life, were memories that she enjoyed, at least she thought. They did not compare to this dinner though. Maybe it was the bacon. Everything is better with bacon. Everything. 

Santana and Mr. H Berry, returning with a bottle of wine for him and his husband, laughed over some silly biomagical thing, again, while Brittany engaged Mr. L Berry in the cartoons he switched to. Quinn sat at the island and ate slowly, picking pieces of the cheese and bacon off of it, before pulling small portions off of the slice. She pushed the plate away after the first.

Santana found a seat next to her, and while she placed a few cookies in front of her, she did not ask her to eat them. Instead, Quinn sipped a glass of water that was refilled ever so often. A hand picked up hers and ran a thumb over the back just as often. 

A squeeze of her shoulder and Quinn opened her eyes to see the plate and the glass were gone. The tv was turned off. And no one was holding her hand. She tried to reach her pendant, but the collar was in the way. Two hands held her shoulders and pulled her back slowly, letting her lean into the body. “Ready for bed, Q,” Santana said.

“She doesn’t get a choice, San,” Brittany said. “And tomorrow, she’ll eat a bit more.” Quinn shrugged. “Rachel will make sure of it.”

Santana laughed and wrapped her arms fully around Quinn. “It’s good that you’re back, Lucy Q.” She whispered. “I’ve missed you.”

Quinn stilled at the name. She had known Santana and Brittany for almost eight years now, even with the three year separation that was grades six through eight. The three years prior to then they were inseparable, even with Quinn being a bit overweight and nerdy. She held those memories close, as close as she did the memories of her mother. It was a name no one called her any more, no one dared to. She was Quinn Fabray, HBIC of McKinley Magical Academy, Ice Queen, President of the Chasity Club, Head Cheerleader. She was not Lucy Q, little chubby girl with pimples and braces at age of ten, who read all the time to avoid playing at recess, even with her friends. 

She had not lied to Rachel when she said she had no friends. Coming back to the academy meant that she now had to be at the top, and it was very lonely there. She fought with Santana most of the time, mainly because she was threatening that position. She had to be cruel and destructive, because otherwise how could she be the best. Everyone who could have been a friend was pushed away for the newly acquired obsession with school, cheerleading and Christianity. Maybe before her father made her leave, she had two really good friends. But five years of being Quinn Fabray had left her knowing and commanding a large group of people, but no one there for her. It left her with fierce and impenetrable armor, but nothing within it. 

Santana pulled away, sliding a hand down to hers. With a very light tug, Quinn was on her feet, and Brittany on her other side, picking up her hand. “Let’s crawl into bed and cuddle.”

“Britts is a fantastic cuddler,” Santana said.

“She’s better.” Brittany led them to the stairs, while Quinn looked back. 

“The plates and-“

“All taken care of,” Santana said. “For now, you need sleep.”

Quinn did not argue. They carried her up the stairs, she thought. She did not know if her feet touched the ground. They entered a room, and Brittany pulled the sheets up while Santana pulled her clothes off of her, then made her wear a pair of sweats that were short and a tank top. Brittany pushed Quinn into the queen sized bed, and she counted her breathes until Santana lifted the sheets and comforter to slide in front of her. She pulled her close, made her rest her chin on the top of her head, and sighed heavily into her chest. A hand wrapped itself over her waist and Quinn let her eyes finally rest and her breathing copy Santana’s. 

!-!-!-!-!-!

Brittany sat in the living room, reading, well looking at the pictures, a book she grabbed off of Leroy’s shelf: Advanced Trigimetrics and Spatial Absence on Magical Constructs and their Construction. It wasn’t them most advance text she had read, but it was probably the densest. At least if they included the formulas, she could have figured out just what they were trying to discuss. But most academics seemed to pontific when they could just say it. 

She sighed and slowly relaxed, releasing the heat that she felt slowly rise through the night. It was like opening a fist that had been forced closed, and refused to move. Part of her wanted to hold it, keep that side close, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. 

The first time that day, in fact first time for Winter Break, that she pulled it close was when Rachel hurt Quinn without meaning to. She needed to understand and fix it, even if it would hurt later. Hurt a lot later. Maybe she could persuade Santana to massage her. 

“Hey,” Rachel said. Brittany jerked and nearly fell out of her chair.

“How’d you, no one has ever snuck up on me before,” Brittany said. She set the book open on one of the arms.

“Cool.” She walked around the chair and sat down in her lap, snuggling into it and wrapping her arms around her neck. A bit more forward than she would have expected from the diva, but physical attention was always nice. Brittany rubbed her nose against her neck and pulled her close. 

“Everything go okay?”

“The door to her was locked from the outside, which wasn’t a real issue since I came through the second story window.” Rachel flipped through the book, barely pausing on any page. “Got her contacts, her glasses, her laptop, various pictures of her and her mum, whom I never meet or seen for that matter, her Cheerio uniform, the most worn books I could find.” 

“Didn’t take you long.” In fact, it barely took any time. Russel Fabray, despite what Santana may believe about him, had set up some formidable wards, and that ignored any of the protection he may have added in the past few years. 

“Nah,” Rachel said. “How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“I think I figured it out,” Rachel closed the book and dropped it over the back of the chair. “Not everything, but some of it. A few things.”

“Hmmm?”

“You’re not a rabbit.”

Brittany laughed. “I would have thought that much was obvious.” Though how she figured it out was something that she would have to explore. When she was alone. 

“Why don’t you act like this in school?” Rachel asked. “Is it because they let you get away with so much because you’re the “dumb blonde”?” 

Brittany shrugged. “I kinda like the freedom, but no, thinking this way hurts, especially with as often as I seem to be doing lately, so I don’t, even if I retain a bit of what I know when I stop. I just let it go.” Holding the knowledge, the awareness, especially the focus, was difficult, and Brittany didn’t like to do it so long. It wasn’t just the pain, but she could easily get lost in it, and well, it could burn her inside out without much effort. She couldn’t hold it long. It would destroy her, and probably everything around her. The flames were too strong. 

She had gripped it tightly a few times, especially earlier when Rachel needed her too. She was good at that, helping without being asked. Maybe she could give her a massage.

“How bout holding this form?”

“Not really, I mean, it’s not too bad, certainly not as bad as trying to stay normal, I guess.”

“I want you, all of you to be comfortable. So do whatever you need to be comfortable.”

“I take you’re comfortable.”

“Yep,” Rachel popped the p and ran her fingers through her hair. Brittany purred at the touch. Smart!Brittany slid away, leaving only Calm!Brittany. “I think I realized something.”

“Hmm?”

“Despite your belief that you’re gonna be the most difficult to handle, I think it’s gonna be Quinn. She’s still following the idea of what her father made her, the subservient to her superiors, as well as trying to not be trouble or a hassle for me. She’s terrified, even if she doesn’t know it, about doing the wrong thing that she’s doing nothing.”

“She’s not really eating, and I know she only slept because Sannie’s with her.”

“Do you think it’ll help?” Rachel asked. 

She shrugged. “It can’t hurt. The both of us there will help.” She yawned and pulled an arm away from Rachel. 

“Then I guess sleep is what we need.” 

“Aren’t you hungry, I’m sure-“

“I made myself a salad when I was there, along with leaving a little surprise in his cabinet, so I’m good.”

Brittany nodded. “It’s kinda scary that you could do that.”

“I’m awesome, so it comes with the territory. Besides, it’s not like I have much power. The runes make up for it.”

“I like it,” Brittany said. 

Rachel stood from her lap and pulled her up. “Let’s go change and you can go join them-“

“In your bed.” Brittany smiled and wrapped an arm around the shorter girl. “They’re so cute together, Quinn won’t let go Sannie, I bet, so you can’t snuggle with them. But you have me.”

“And that is more than enough. All of you together?” Rachel smiled. “I’m extremely lucky.”

“Yep,” Brittany said, popping the p. The flames had dissipated so it was easy to relax into her, a skip and hop in her step, along with a bit. Tomorrow, she would barely be able to walk, but that’s okay. She had her wizard back.

“So you and I are gonna snuggle together next to them, all four of us sharing a bed?”

“Duh, a familiar should always be as close as possible to their wizard,” Brittany smiled, “And we shouldn’t even be wearing cloths, but you’re uncomfortable about that. Why? You’re hot, like I would have loved to kiss you the beginning of the year, but Sannie said no because you were Man-hands and at the bottom of the population pool. They’re not really man hands, so I don’t know why she kept call you that.”

Rachel laughed and rested her head on her shoulders. “Neither did I.”

“I think she was jealous.”

“Why? What did she have to be jealous about?”

“You had Quinn’s attention, even if all she did was pick and hurt you, which we’re tots sorry bout.”

Rachel nodded. Course she wouldn’t be over it and say their forgiven. She’d have to punish them like the bad familiars they were, maybe with spankings; that would be nice. 

Brittany yawned and Rachel picked up her hand, pulling her up the rest of the stairs. “C’mon, let’s crawl in bed with the rest of them. I’m cold.”

“You know, pressing our naked bodies together would be the best way to warm up,” Brittany smiled at her.

“You just want me naked.”

“You, Sannie, Quinn,” she replied. “It’d be tots hot and you know it. You want it.”

“Maybe later, when we’re a bit more comfortable.”

“Fine,” She pouted and crossed her arms, but still let Rachel lead her. She’d persuade her at some point, and then they could have sweet lady kisses. Was it sexy times with animals if they were humanoid, mostly human, familiars? She’d ask Sannie later, because Rachel’s butt was really cute and she wanted to squeeze it tightly, even if she knew it would not get her anything she really wanted. Except maybe a spanking.

“Brittany!” Rachel jumped away from her, tearing her hand out of hers. “No. Bad girl.”

“Yes, do I get a spanking now, because I was a really bad girl.”

“Get in here, and sleep now, sweetheart, we’ll see,” Rachel smirked at her. Yes. Totally worked. Brittany scurried into the room and stripped down to her panties, which she didn’t want to wear, but would because Rachel was shy. Rachel followed her in, but paused at the two girls laying in the bed. 

Santana was almost completely covered by Quinn and the comforter, but even in the dim light, she could see the movement under the bed, making sure that she partner was as close as possible, hopefully finding out if Quinn was a great cuddler. It looked like it. They was cute. She’d tell them later. 

Rachel stepped up behind her, and wrapped her arms right under her breasts. Boo, she didn’t move her hands up any further and she could feel the cloth top she wore. “A shirt please, Bri,” Rachel said.

“A nickname? Sweet.” Almost made up for having to wear a shirt. Maybe she could shimmy out of her panties in bed. That would be fair. “But-“

“You’re very pretty, but not now, Kay? Later, when the four of us have talked about it,” Rachel said. 

“Fine, I’ll just follow the Cheerio motto.” She crawled over Santana and Quinn without touching them and then shifted under the comforter and sheets. It wouldn’t be worth it to try to pull Quinn close, given how tight a grip Santana had on her, so she’d just have to wait for Rachel. 

But that would have to wait, because her wizard went to the bathroom and spent some ungodly amount of time doing whatever she was doing in there. Finally, after waiting, like forever, Rachel returned and walked softly over to her. She crawled in, and let Brittany pull her in. Awesome. Sannie never let her be the big spoon. This was so cool. Almost made up for the shirt. After Rachel fell asleep, she’d take her panties off, just to show her how a familiar was supposed to dress. Maybe the shirt too. It was important she learned how to train them properly. 

!-!-!-!-!-!

Santana woke up regretting drinking the three glasses of water before they crashed, but damn it, she was thirsty, and if she couldn’t have Coke, she’d make do. It was a task to open her eyes, and she couldn’t really feel her left arm, but she was able to find that she was wrapped almost completely in Quinn’s arms. Well, one arm. The other was firmly attached to her ass. Slim fingers gripped her tightly, under her thong.

Wanky.

The only issue with the position, and whatever it might lead to, was that she really, really needed to piss, and this shit just won’t fly. Consent was important and while she’d give hers whole heartedly, especially to a fine, sweet, almost happy Q, she was nowhere near ready for that, so she couldn’t respond the way she wanted to. The way she’d respond if it was B, though she’d be much more forward, and direct, and head in her crotch going to town. God bless her girl. 

Santana looked around best she could, given Quinn’s grip on her, granted, one of her arms was wrapped just as firm around her waist. Her face was stuck almost in her neck, and the smooth skin was very inviting. But now was not the time. She shifted a little, but Quinn muttered and squeezed tighter, pulling her hips flush. 

“God, Q,” she said, “if I knew you were this willing, I’d seduced you over a year ago.” But her caps didn’t respond. Fine. If bitch wanted to do this the hard way, that seemed fair. 

She shifted just enough, though Quinn squeezed her ass again, and she bit down a moan, to get her head just next to hers. It was awkward and her left arm was still tingling, but she was able to hold herself up. Santana licked from collar to ear, slowly, and felt the uneven breathe on her shoulders. She kissed the same path down, stopping just above her collar, a pulse point. Quinn groaned and pressed her forehead against her shoulder. Good girl. Now, let her go. One final kiss to Quinn, and Santana bit down in the same spot.

Q pulled away and tore her thong in the process. Santana fell off the bed, taking the sheets with her, but at least she was laughing the entire time. Though she was the only one. The room had the dim blues of a darkened morning behind shades and blinds, but she could tell that she and Q were the only ones present. Wherever B and the hobbit disappeared to was probably far enough they didn’t get to see the awesomeness that was her waking-up skills. 

Then the rest of why she needed to get up returned and she rushed away, leaving Q to stare at her perfect, round ass.

Santana returned ten minutes later, smiling at the stationary girl, and sat down next to her. “Sup.”

“That hurt.”

“So does my ass,” Santana said.

“It is your fault you bit me.”

“Oh, I’m not talking bout that. No, that shit was worth it.” She picked up her hand and ran her fingers up and down the back. “No, from you gripping so damn hard.”

“Excuse me?” Quinn turned to her and rested her forehead down on hers. Santana had accepted a long time ago that she was the shortest of the Unholy Trinity, though only by a little bit. Q had a few inches on her, while B had much more, which was just fine with her. 

“I have a Q-sized hand print firmly formed on my ass,” Santana replied. “Detailed enough that we could probably get your finger prints off of it. Wanna see?”

“Lord,” She pulled away and tried to bury her face into the pillows. The girl’s tank straps fell, and Santana didn’t have the will to pull them back up. The bare shoulders were just too nice to look at.

“Now, Q, don’t be all modest and shy now. Shit was awesome, and I’d let you do it again, just not when I have to piss like a race horse.”

“You have the dirtiest mouth out of anyone I know.” 

“Hey, I brush after going-“

“I have told you once before, and I will tell you again,” she said, though it was extremely muffled by the pillow, “I do not want to know about whatever kinky games Brittany and you get into.”

“Even if it could involve you?” Quinn sat up slowly. “Damn straight this deserves listening.”

“Good, you’re awake,” Brittany said. Any other time, any other person, she would have sworn at for interrupting her flirting time, but it was B, and that shit just didn’t fly. “Rachel is making us breakfast, as Daddy’s Berry have left for the day.” She walked over to the pair and flopped down between them, a hand over Santana’s legs, just shy of her tee. The other rested on Quinn’s sweats, below her ass. “She rubbed out all my kinks with her non-man-hands, really why did we call her that, cause they tots not man-hands. 

“Sup,” Santana said. 

“Why are you not wearing panties, but I have to?” she asked.

“Cause caps here tore them off,” Santana said, pointing to her thong. 

“Santana, please,” Quinn replied. 

“Wanna see the bruise she gave me, totally wicked and-“

“Please, can we not?” Quinn sat up, and Brittany spun to her back, then at up between them. “Just, I am sorry, Santana, I did not-“

“Shhh,” Brittany pressed a finger to her lips. “No, nothing to be sorry for. Ever. Not again.”

“But-“

“It’s all cool, caps,” Santana said. And it was. It was more than cool, it was fantastic. And had it been B, things would have gone more in the direction of lady kisses, but there were priorities, which included freaking out Q. Cause that shit is important. Brittany withdrew her hand and kissed her cheek.

“I do not know why I did that.”

“Hold her, or grab her ass,” Brittany asked.

“The second one is because I’ve gots a fine ass,” Santana said.

“She does, don’t you agree?” She stared right through her, and Santana could see the gears spinning as she tried to think of something, anything, that was not from her father’s homophobic rhetoric. Q never had a direct problem with them being into each other, though it was incredibly awkward, and she was required to think a certain way, so it bled out a little bit. Another strain on their relationship. 

“I, please, just-“

“Q,” Santana reached over Brittany and took her hand. “Did you dislike it?” She shook her hand. “Did you feel uncomfortable, while you weren’t thinking bout it, cause you be freakin’ out for no fucking reason?” Another shake. “Okay then. Then that’s all that matters at the moment. Stop over thinking it.”

“What about?”

“Listen to Sannie, she has awesome ideas,” Brittany said, “like to tear the bread into pieces, but never squeeze them into balls, because they would sink then, to feed to the duckies, which, can we go see? We’d have to ask Rachie, but she’s pretty cool and-“

“B?” Santana asked. She rarely acted this childish, if ever any more. Most days, the dumb blonde was present, but never the child. “You okay?”

“It was a long night,” she said, and tried to slide out from between them. But Santana let go of Quinn and gripped both of B’s legs. 

“You’re not in trouble,” she replied.

“What is wrong?” Quinn asked. 

“It just, I needed to-“ God, she did it again, didn’t she? And for a long time. Holding that power together and squeezing it into the Brittany she should have been except she had been shattered and put back together wrong. Fucking shitbags.

“It’s fine, hun,” Santana straddled her legs and pulled her close. Quinn tried to move away, but she grabbed her arm and pull it too them, dragging her with it. “You stay, in fact, hug her now. Do it, caps.”

“Fine,” Quinn said with very little malice and dislike in her voice and complied quickly.

“You did good, kay? Very good.”

“It was hurting and I just needed to help, but now, I don’t want to-“ Santana kissed her head and pulled her tighter. Quinn rested on Brittany’s other shoulder. “Rachel helped when she could, but this is easier now, at least thinking. My body hurts, San, can you make it stop? I know you can’t, but-“

“Thank you,” Quinn whispered.

Brittany paused in the middle of a sob. 

“I know whatever it is, whatever caused you pain,” she continued, “it was for me, and I am sorry you had to do that. You would have done it anyways, even if I asked you not to hurt yourself for me, so the only thing I can say is thank you.” 

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Brittany said. “At least recently. Cause you were adorably nice when you were younger, before your sperm donor screwed you up.”

“Sperm donor?” Quinn asked, lifting her head to glare at Santana.

“It seemed fitting,” She said, because it was fucking exactly what the man was. 

“This is so cute,” Rachel said, “Let me get my camera.” Santana fought the groan as she listened to little hobbit feet scurry across the floor.

“Fuck that, treasure trail,” she said. There would never be any record of her being cute. That word didn’t fucking describe Santana Lopez at all.

“A, language, and b, deal with it,” she replied. “Hold still please.”

“And three, be nice, Sannie,” Brittany muttered into her shoulder. “She’s our wizard.” 

She sighed, pushed her head between Quinn’s and Brittany’s shoulders, and waited until Rachel gave the all clear. Which never came. When she looked up, she saw the lens of a 35mm camera that immediately flashed. “Thank you, Santana,” Rachel said. “You have such a lovely face, and I wanted to capture it.”

“I’m torn between accepting the compliment or bitching out for taking my picture.”

“Still have it,” she replied and sat down onto the bed near Brittany. “Doing okay, Bri?” 

“I have them, so yes,” she said. “But I had you and was better too, so now that I have all of you, I’m a lot better.”

“Did you feed her sugar or something? Especially before noon?” Santana asked. Quinn removed herself from the hug, leaving Santana to reposition her and Brittany to stare at their wizard. “Because that just doesn’t fly well.” It was a joke and enough to distract her girl from the fact that she hurt. 

“It’s only nine, Tana,” Brittany said. She was wrapped fully in Santana’s arms, though her girl kept a hold on one of Quinn’s hands. Rachel pulled her feet into her lap. “Besides, Rachie and I’ve been watching old Saturday morning cartoons on the softest couch I’ve ever been on.”

“My dads had to go to work, and I wanted to get going on my morning routine, even if it was a bit late,” Rachel added.

“Routine?” Satnaan asked, she threaded some fingers through Brittany’s hair and began to comb it. 

“I usually get up at five thirty, do forty five minutes on my elliptical, then twenty minute beauty regiment before taking fifteen minutes-“

“Sorry I asked.”

“You’re gonna have to get used to it,” Rachel said. “I do it every day, for the most part. Along with my practicing, my lessons, and training.”

“Do you ever relax?” Brittany asked.

“Not if I want to get to Broadway, I can’t. Not if I want to be the best.”

“You’re gonna kill yourself at that rate,” Santana replied. “Sue doesn’t even make us do that much, every day.”

“She is about pushing us, but she also understands how to ensure our safety and long term health,” Quinn added, playing with a thread that didn’t exist on the sheets. They’d have to work on her looking people in the eyes again. The HBIC was gone, and as happy as she was to have that fucking dicktard out of her girl’s life, she did like when Q was being assertive. It was a little bit hot. Poquito. 

“So, you have to listen to your familiars on this one,” Brittany finished. 

“But, I need to prepare, I have to be the best,” Rachel said. She looked away and ran her fingers through the blue-black hair. The hobbit was hot, well hotter than last year. Tight shirts and torn jeans or skirts were fantastic on her. Fuck those legs were great. 

“And you will be,” Brittany sat forward, “we promise.”

“You’ll get there,” Santana added. She leaned down on B’s shoulder, looking at her feet. She would be the only one. Everyone else would be stuck here, even with the academy. Very few actually got out of the town, let alone the state. The most Santana could have hoped for was to be good enough like her brothers and sisters and find some way that she was special in. Not that there was much for her to be good at besides being a bitch, and that job doesn’t pay well. 

“Of all of us, you will be the only one to escape this town,” Quinn said.

“You do realize that you’re all coming with me when I do, right?” Santana looked up at the smiling face of her wizard. 

“How? I mean, the money and everything,” Santana asked. Money was always an issue. Her Mami made it work best she could, but sometimes, when she was young and shit was extremely tight, there was a lack of dinner or breakfast. It got better when her brothers and sisters escaped, but even then, her Mami struggled with her job and taking care of her. Babysitting B’s bratty brothers gave her enough money for some newish cloths, but Goodwill only goes so far. 

“What, you three can’t work? You don’t have your own dreams? I’m pretty sure we can accomplish them in New York, and I don’t think sitting around all day is any of your styles.” 

They could work? That was an option? They weren’t going to be kept in the house, bound to a small area and treated like animals? Santana had resigned herself to that thought, even if the other girls didn’t know it. She had been caught, and Q was right in her description of what could happen to her. She had always known that was the most favorable outcome. 

Rachel offered them freedom, control of their own lives, rather than actually being pets. Not just offered, expected they would be themselves, even with the bond that would grow between them due to the nature of their magic. 

“Really?” Brittany said. “I can still dance?”

“Why not?”

“These,” Q ran a finger along her collar, her pendant barely hidden by the tag on it. 

“Oh, well, yes, you are required to wear the collar, but I looked up the rules that Daddy gave me, the leash is pretty much required for the first six months. After that, it’s the owner’s discretion,” Rachel said, smiling. “Apparently, we’re not trustworthy during that probationary period, but I guess it’s more to make sure you’re well trained.

She had seen so many fake ones from the diva, forced on her face just to get through the day after the hell they put her through. Well, not really hell, or a hellish dimension, but it was close enough for a student year nine. Names, pushing her into lockers, slushies since magic was banned in the halls. Whatever they could get away with, the student body did the first year at the Academy. The beginning of year ten was shitty for her, though Q had been the only one to really step it, everyone else had lost most of the interest. At least, now she understood why her cap hated the hob- Berry like she caused her to have a sandy vag. 

“Really?” Brittany let go of her and pulled Rachel into a hug before she responded. “And at school?”

“Well, there you are required to wear it, especially since I’m only year ten,” she replied. “The leash with the collar. The collar has to always stay on. Sorry.”

“I like it.” Brittany pulled away, sitting between all of them. “You got me this awesome yellow one, like duckies, oh can we go see duckies today, please?”

“Maybe,” Rachel wrapped her hands around the blonde’s. “I got Quinn’s stuff last night, and-“

“You did?” Q asked. How the fuck hob-no Berry, fuck this fucking shit – accomplish that. 

“Language, Santana,” Rachel said. Fuck she said it with her outer voice. “And yes, it wasn’t that hard, though your father might find some difficulty in finding his shoes. Over all, relative easy.”

“Sorry, I’ll do better,” Santana said, crossing her arms.

“Just do not say it out loud, Santana,” Q said and patted her leg. 

“I like it when you get along,” Rachel stood up. “Now, it’s almost ten and we have a lot to do. Like I said, I acquired Quinn’s possessions, and it’s in the guest room. We can go get yours stuff as well, Santana, Brittany.”

“Daddy can drop it off,” Brittany said. “Quinn and I can find something to do.”

“Wanky,” Santana said. “And we really don’t have to.”

“Course we do,” Rachel replied. The small transformed into a glare. “Those are important to who you are, and we cannot leave them behind. Besides, your mom must be wondering where you are.” 

Right, of all of them, Santana’s mami had no idea where she was. Just that she did not come home the night before. In all the excitement and experiences the day before, she kinda forgot to call and tell her how she got caught and became someone’s pet. That would be a fun conversation. 

“Brittany, you sure you don’t want us to get it?” Rachel walked over to the door way.

“Nope,” She slid on the bed to sit next to Quinn, “I can help Quinn get settled in.”

“We are we going to place all of these cloths? The memorabilia?” Quinn asked, staring at the sheets. Jeez, this fucking familiar thing drained all the confidence from the girl. Or Santana had forgotten how shy Lucy Q really was, the ego and arrogance a product of her sperm donor. Or this is what her father demanded she act like at home. Fuck, this was complicated. 

Rachel tapped her foot in a steady six-eight beat, which was really weird. “We can put some of it in the guest room, then I’ll talk with my Dad and Daddy about possibly converting some of the entertainment area.”

“Entertainment area?” Brittany straightened up, hands clasped in front of her. 

“Yeah, our basement, Daddy converted it to sorta-movie theatre stage, with two video game systems that-“ Brittany grabbed Quinn’s hand and dashed out of the room, pulling the other blonde with her.

Santana shifted a bit. The sheets were still a bit cool, even cooler now that her caps and B weren’t with her. Hobbs, there that was endearing not to be insulting, stupid familiar bond, stared at her, focusing her, which caused her to find that non-existent thread that Q was playing with earlier. “You’re probably not gonna see her for a while,” Santana said. “Had to limit her game time over summer just to make sure she ate.”

“She enjoy them that much?” 

She shrugged. “More like she really doesn’t have to think too much or try to one or the other Britts, she can just be B.” Rachel nodded, but kept staring. “What?” 

“You don’t like me.”

“I don’t dislike you.”

“You and Quinn have treated me horribly in the past.”

“Yep.” 

Rachel walked over to the bed and sat down, facing the opposite direction from her. “Quinn, I kinda understand now, but you? You didn’t have the excuse of your father being a complete asshole and controlling everything about you, including your mind.”

“Right.” Santana shrugged and turned away, but Hobbs held her hand. 

“I’m not mad, sweetheart,” Rachel said. “I’ve gotten over it. I’ve forgiven you mostly. But I’d like to know why. I think I deserve that much.”

She didn’t have an answer. Not one that’d make sense. “I missed my friend.” She didn’t want to upset Hobbs, maybe that was still a bit mean, any more than she had. But that wasn’t all of it, it couldn’t be. Because it was a cop out, and she knew it. It wasn’t fair. She did her a solid when she didn’t have to, and she, as usual, was being a bitch about it.

“Hmm?”

“I knew Quinn before grade sixth. When she was Lucy Q.”

“Hence returning to the nickname, huh?” Santana turned around to find Rachel was facing her, sitting cross leg while caressing her hand. “What does that have to do with you being cruel and a-“

“Heinous bitch,” Santana said, not bothering to hide the smile. 

“Well, yes.”

“If it meant being with my friend again, even just around her, then it was worth it.” Santana shrugged, and Rachel squeezed her hand. Maybe she’d understand, maybe she wouldn’t, but for now, it would have to do. “So, we done with twenty questions. Laying in hay does not suit me at all.”

“One more and you can shower,” Rachel said. “Why is there a torn thong on my floor?” 

Santana’s smile widen. “Wanna see the bruises Q gave me?”

!-!-!-!-!

After informing Santana no, she did not want to see the bruises, even if she really did, Rachel finished making the wraps for her familiars downstairs. There was yeps and yelps, laugher and screams. There was fun in her house. Not just from her or her dads, but from others. 

Daddy converted the basement with the idea that she’d have people over during year nine and on, but the bully effectively crushed that idea. Her transformation into the pseudo-gothic appearance was meant to break down that silly barrier she had forced on her at school, as well as more accepting of her body. All of it. So she got cloths that fit her well, added an ethically safe dye to her hair to get some excellent midnight streaks, and the make-up she wore to school was further separation of who she was. She did wear it all well if she admitted it to herself.

And it worked. The students barely saw her as the same from last year, maybe because they didn’t smell fear, though the Cheerios continued to make her life hell. The hockey players too, but that was because someone had put liquid heat in runes on their jocks after she caught one of them looking up her skirts. Not that it was her or anything. For the most part, people left her alone. She enjoyed herself, and while no one was her friend, no one was not her friend. People were nicer to her, or at least tolerated her then. 

To hear that Santana, the voice and enforcer of the Ice Queen of McKinley, didn’t dislike her was very uplifting. It was probably the closest to an apology she’d get, and that was perfectly acceptable. She could blame all of them, but holding that in was extremely bad for a person, so it was better that she just let it go.

She finished the plate of bacon, egg, and cheese(after a great deal of research on the dangers of limiting ones diet in terms of biomagical development with her Dad’s help, it seemed better not to be vegan, though she demanded that at least they have ethically slaughtered food, and she prayed for each animal before she ate it. It was only right) wraps, Santana joined her in the kitchen in just a pair of black jeans that had to be painted on and one of her red tanks that barely covered her navel. And no bra.

“I thought we got you some cloths yesterday,” Rachel asked. Santana shrugged and reached over the island to steal a wrap. “Then why are you wearing mine? And where is your bra?”

“I thought we were done with twenty questions, Tink,” Santana said. “These are pretty good.”

“Thanks, and Tink? Really after Tinkerbelle, I hope, because there are countless other reasons why-” 

“That or Hobbs, so which is less insulting to you. You get your choice because I’m feeling nice due to this fantastic food you have given me.” Santana smiled at her. Actually smiled. It was weird not to see a scowl on her face, but Rachel took victories where she could. 

“Fine, Tink is mildly less insulting, despite negatively representing my height, which you are barely taller than me.”

“But I am taller,” Santana said, “And that’s enough.”

“Fine, eat and grab your shoes. Yours, not mine,” Rachel said.

“You know I rock this just as good as you right,” Santana replied. “That was not meant to be a compliment.” She found a water bottle in the fridge, which was kinda nice that she was comfortable enough to just go searching through her fridge without asking, though maybe she’d do that anyways. Just to be defiant. They’d talk about it. 

“But I’ll accept it as one anyways.” She left the dishes in the sing and walked over to her, running a hand over her shoulder as she passed. Her familiar shivered just a little bit under her touch. “Hurry, so we can get your stuff from your mom. I realized we didn’t finish our shopping yesterday, and I want to pick up what we’re missing, because I’m not letting you steal my underwear.”

“Speaking of, why’d you have just boxer briefs in your drawers, not that it’s kinda hot in a strange way, but still.” Santana followed her out to the front hallway, where she was handed a coat, black and faux leather, and a pair of buckled boots. 

Rachel just smiled. “Why you’d really pick on me?” 

Santana waved her hand in the air. “Let’s hit the road. And where else do we need to shop?”

“I was thinking Victoria’s Secret,” Rachel said. 

She had never thought a spit take was possible in real life, but it was funny to see one

!-!-!-!-!-!

When Rachel and Santana had returned, Quinn was sitting in the living room with a very tired Brittany in her lap. She had been asked to make sure that both of them had eaten, showered and dressed, which apparently was more difficult than it seemed given Santana’s laugh at the request. 

After an hour of asking her to do so and receiving a response of “in five minutes”, Quinn stepped in between Brittany and the screen, knelt down and begged her to do it, so she did not get in trouble for inability to follow simple directions. She ran upstairs and was showering after she kissed her check. Quinn touched the spot where her lips touched her and stayed in the same spot Brittany left her in until she returned, asking if they could watch some Disney movie.

Wall-E was not a bad choice, but it seemed sad in that the little robot was hurt in protecting the one thing the female robot who did not care for him as much as he did for her. Brittany held her hand the entire time she laid in her lap. 

“Hey,” Rachel said. Quinn jumped enough that Brittany sat up and looked over the back of the couch at the diva. 

“You are so sneaky,” she said. Quinn agreed, not that she was really paying attention to anything else. It was safe here, and she did not have to worry about anyone yelling at her for doing something besides school work or Bible study. “How do you do that?”

“Why does Santana insist on being contradictory?”

“I’m not,” Santana said and dropped in between Brittany and Quinn. “Sup bitches.”

“Everything go well?” Quinn asked.

“Sure, if you consider Mami crying in tears of joy that I was both alive and better off then I was before.” She shrugged and rested her head on Quinn’s shoulder, grabbing her arm and pulling it across her chest. She started at the affectionate girl; Santana was never this way during school, or with anyone other than Brittany. 

“Santana started crying too,” Rachel added, “I have pictures and everything.”

“We must destroy the evidence,” Santana said. 

Brittany laid back down on their laps. “Can we finish movie please? Quinnie said that we’re going someplace?”

“Yes to both questions, though I’d like-“ She did not finish her statement before Quinn moved to make room for her between her and Santana. It was only right. She scurried over and once settled, Santana grabbed her arm in a similar manner and rested her head on their wizard’s shoulder. 

Ten minutes later, and a slightly misty-eyed Brittany, Rachel was herding them to her car in the driveway. Winter had been kind this year, with moderate temperatures and no snow. She was forced to wear the same coat that Rachel made her wear when she find her. “What did we forget?” Quinn asked. The car was silver and slightly smaller than Mr. Berry’s though she was fairly confident that they would all fit in with no problem. Maybe she should just stay back just in case.

“It’s okay,” Rachel said. She grabbed her hand and stood in front of her. Quinn stared at the ground, thankful when she heard the car door open and closed. “It’s not your fault.”

She did not say the words, but the thought sat in the back of her mind. “But I was the reason-“

“We left because I thought we were done,” Rachel continued. “I thought we had everything, but given the fact that neither you nor Brittany have any panties or bra on, we clearly forgot them for you guys. So we’re gonna go buy some. Now, front seat for you. Come.” Quinn blushed and looked away from her wizard. She pulled Quinn to the other side, then waited as she climbed in and buckled her seat belt. 

As Rachel climbed in and started the car, Brittany sat forward and tried to pet her hair from behind her, but gave up after a moment of her sitting forward too. Then Santana had to speak up. “If we’re going to Victoria’s Secret, I wanna see B model. It’s what we usually do.”

“Can we?” Brittany asked. Quinn wished she had something to hold, but was left to just twiddling her thoughts. She watched them to make sure her speed was steady and didn’t hit them as she spun them about each other. “Can we all model, I mean, it’d be so hot, and it’d get all of you comfortable with wearing less cloths like a proper familiar. 

Rachel smiled and just pulled out. “Maybe, we’ll see.” Quinn messed up and her thumbs collided with each other

“Please,” Santana said. “B and I did it all the time when we went over the summer. They didn’t care, kinda. We did get kicked out the last time.”

“What happened?” Rachel asked. 

Quinn started up again, spinning them in the opposite directions. This way could work, right? Perhaps if she went faster. “Apparently, they frown upon walking out of the changing room in just a corset,” Brittany said.

“I apologized, kinda, bitch didn’t need to kick us out. And you didn’t need to maul me.” Failed again, barely a few seconds. Maybe if she went a bit slower.

“You weren’t complaining at the time.” Quinn shifted in her seat. Counting the trees as they passed would be better method to pass time quietly. More concentration, less likely to screw up.

“That’s cause your hand was up- You know what? Declared private moment and we’re not sharing. No one wants to hear it.” 

“I do,” Rachel said. Quinn did not.

“No, we not discussing my past modelling experience. But speaking of models, Q is gonna have to model. It’s time we got to see what’s she’s rocking.”

“I’d love to see that,” Rachel said. Quinn swallowed heavily and switched to watching the houses behind the trees. They all slid away as they pulled out onto the freeway. Ten more minutes, maybe. That blue one with the white was pretty, even though the trees were bare. “Wait, what about after Cheerios?”

“Nah, Q is usually the first changed, last out,” Santana said. “Which sucks, because that was some shit we should have all gotten to enjoy.”

“Guys, I think-“ Brittany said. Quinn found a nice spinning hubcap to watch. She could have sworn it was glowing blue, but maybe that was wishful thinking

“Even gym?” Rachel’s voice was filled with that horrible smile of hers, the one that lifted her up and held her so high. 

“Passed out of it,” Santana replied. “Some shitty excuse her sperm donor gave about it being a waste of time when she was already on the cheerios. Needed more time for study and shit like that.” It was a fine excuse, and home time was spent either reading and hiding from him, or “studying” the bible, which also consisted of reading. 

“So no confirmation?”

“About what?” She probably only cared for the same reason most people did, the reason her father did. There was really no other option. Especially now. 

Quinn gripped her collar and slipped a finger under it to touch her pendant. 

“Well, it was all about the teasing and-“

“Damn Tink, that’s hot,” Santana laughed. Quinn pressed an ear against her seat belt.

“Can we-“ Brittany tried to say. She leaned forward, and Quinn felt a hand on her seat.

“What, it is just a scientific curiosity that I wanted to fulfill,” Rachel continued. “Mostly to try to figure out what I could do to stop being slushied.” Quinn turned her entire face into the seatbelt.

“Really, I don’t think-“

“Tink, sorry bout it and all, but fuck, talk about teasing,” Santana was smirking. She was smirking and planning something again. 

She sighed and gripped the door handle. The car at least was moving at a steady pace, the road thumping underneath them. 

“What do you mean?”

“First day this year,” Santana replied. Cherry slushie, between three and fourth period, Rachel’s free period. She was headed to the choir room for practice, while Quinn was headed towards Maths with Santana. A baby Cheerio did it just before they passed by, all for them to see. Rachel was wearing an extremely tight black t-shirt with a torn red and black sweater over it, just hanging on her shoulders, the school girl skirt in the same colors and disrepair, showing the fishnet tights she wore with the black combat boots. 

“Oh, right.”

“What happened?” Brittany asked. The hand disappeared from pressing into her back. 

“It’s not my fault I forgot it,” Rachel said. Quinn pressed her face against the cool window, trying to calm down her stomach. The heat was too high, and she had grown accustomed to the cold. Maybe Rachel would turn it done, eventually. She did not want to say anything.

“Fuck it is, but totally worth it. And a nice pair at that. Now all’s that’s left to complete my set is Q here and I’d have the hottest, do not let that go to your head, Tink, girls in the school.” 

“Can we please change the topic?” Quinn asked, she did not move from resting against the window. A bump, and her face bumped it. The car quieted “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Quinnie?” Brittany asked. She leaned again and reached over the seat to pet her hair. She relaxed a bit to the touch, and closed her eyes as someone gripped her thigh and squeezed gently. 

“Sorry, I, listen Q, you don’t have to kay?” Santana said. 

Quinn had never heard her so soft. And it was not that this was a bad conversation topic, even though she really did not want to hear it anymore. She should not have ruined it for everyone else. Barely would have ruined the whole experience too, if she did model for them. Not that she wanted to. “Please, can we just change the topic?”

“So how bout that local sports team,” Rachel asked. They pulled off an off ramp towards a some shopping complex.

“Do you even watch sports? Do you even know what it is?” Santana said. Quinn smiled briefly, but continued to rest against the window, closing her eyes. The cool glass felt wonderful, and her face was finally cooling down. 

“Yes, it’s that game where they throw that thing into the hoop to hit goals right?” Brittany laughed; it echoed a bit, and Quinn felt her smile widen.

“You do realize that you’re gonna have to go to all of our games right?”

“Damn,” Rachel said. “I wanted to avoid all those things.”

“What’s wrong with Splatterball?’

“Really, you have to ask that question?” Rachel parked the car and shut the engine down. 

“Fuck yeah,” Santana replied. “Seriously shit is awesome, you’re coming. No questions.”

“I am the wizard here, remember?”

“This is for your own good,” Brittany said, “Besides, we’re happy in the Cheerios, and you want us happy, right?” They were happy. Santana and Brittany loved it, especially Santana. The power, the prestige, the energy. All of it was something she craved. Must have something to do with being the youngest. For Quinn, it was a requirement. 

“But-“

“Seriously, Tink,” Santana said. “You’ll be safe in the stands, and we’ll make the whole leash thing work, got it? Don’t you worry your tight ass off kay?”

“Is there any way you can just leave me here?” Quinn asked.

“Quinn Fabray,” Rachel said. “How dare you suggest something as cruel as leaving a familiar in a car by herself.”

“You could crack a window.”

“You’re coming, Quinn,” Rachel said. Quinn almost heard the foot stomping.

“Not yet, but I’m pretty sure-“ Santana started. 

Quinn sighed, and Brittany must have slapped her arm. 

“Sorry, Q,” Santana said. 

“It is fine,” Quinn replied. Rachel stepped out and opened the backseat doors, then Santana and Brittany slide out. She probably should open her eyes, but it was really nice, and the coat was a bit warm. Maybe she could persuade Rachel to let her go without. 

The door opened slowly, though Quinn followed it a bit. A body stretched across her and unbuckled her seatbelt, then took her hand and pulled her up and out of the seat. Once she was on her feet, Quinn opened to eyes. Santana was looking up at her. Rachel and Brittany was standing a bit away.

“Sup,” Santana said.

“Can we just-“ Quinn nodded towards the mall. They had parked pretty far back, with no other car around. Even though it was a weekday and there were plenty of spaces that had similar characteristics closer. 

“Fine,” Santana said, and stepped back to Brittany while Rachel walked over and picked up her leash. Right. That. Quinn looked at it as she positioned it along with the other two on her wrist. 

“Ready?” Rachel asked. 

Quinn shrugged. Rachel frowned. But at least she started to walk, the other two walked by her wizard, Brittany even taking Rachel’s hand. Quinn followed a few steps back, though close enough to keep the leash from pulling

Maybe she could just grab a few pieces and be done with it. She really did not need to try anything on, even though most of her cloths were loose now as well. She just was not hungry or anything, she just did not need to eat as much so of course she would lose weight.

The trio were chatting, though there were long pauses between some of the answers or responses or anything. Quinn nearly bumped into Rachel when they reached the door. “Come ‘ere,” she said and picked up her hand. She stared at it for a bit before letting herself be pulled up next to her wizard

“I’ll take care of you,” Rachel said. “Kay?” 

Quinn shrugged.

“Sweetie, use your words,” Rachel said. “What’s wrong?”

“I just would really like to go home.” She stared at her feet. The shoes fit okay, more comfortable than the heels that her father kept trying to get her to wear. 

“Are you uncomfortable?” She shrugged again. “What’s wrong, I can tell.”

“If we finish quickly, can we go home?” Quinn asked. 

“Sure, but I don’t want to rush everyone.” Rachel stepped really close to her. “It’s important that you be comfortable.”

“I-“

“And you’re not, was it because of the conversation in the car?” 

Quinn looked over Rachel’s shoulder.

“Santana said you’d not your normal, dominating self. You know, just because your father isn’t controlling your life any more, doesn’t mean you have to be the opposite of how you were.” 

“Rachel, I would really like if we did not talk about this,” Quinn said, finally looking her in the eyes. “Ever.” She held her gaze, and Rachel’s flickered back and forth, scanning her for something. She would find nothing, because there was nothing there. Nothing to be seen or experience. 

!-!-!-!-!-!

Rachel found that people tended to listen to what she had to say once she dropped her Daddy’s name and her relationship to him. She didn’t understand what he did exactly, or why it was so terrifying, but still, there were some advantages.

Like a private room at Victoria’s Secret. She knew that Brittany was gonna model no matter what, and this seemed a better way than fighting the blush she’d knew she’d have the entire time. Not that it was a bad thing. 

In fact, the whole experience should have been good. But she was too worried about Quinn. When they arrived and ushered into the private area, Quinn simply sat down on the bench away from her. She barely said another word the entire walk, even with Rachel holding her hand. Santana and Brittany were behind them. Once again, a few people stared, but no enough that she’d care. It was all training for when she was famous and on Broadway. The leashes were annoying though, and she looked forward to when they weren’t required. 

Despite the fact that they only really needed a few items and most of them could be bought easily, Brittany and Santana of them demanded a showing, to model for Rachel. They had a quiet conversation with the sales rep, though the blonde continued to look back at Rachel and Quinn. A few minutes later, a few racks of many colored bras and panties were wheeled in. The two girls grabbed a few and immediately entered one of the changing rooms. 

“Quinn?” Rachel said. “Sweetie?”

“Yes?” Quinn replied, not moving. 

“Can you come here please?”

She shuffled over slowly until she was a foot away. Rachel sighed and closed the rest of the way until their legs were touching. “I am sorry.”

“Why? You did nothing wrong.”

“It was wrong of me to talk back like that,” Quinn continued. “I, I should not have spoken like that. You are just-“

“Quinn,” Rachel picked up hand, “Are you uncomfortable about this? About changing in front of us? Was that the issue yesterday?”

“No, I do not know.”

“Cause if it does, then you don’t have to. I’ve never done things like this. My dads don’t even like shopping with me, so I’ve never gotten to show off or-“

“I am sorry.”

“We’re gonna be walking in circles if you keep apologizing about that.”

“I will until it is better.”

“I forgive you. I forgive Santana, even if I milk it for all it’s worth, and Brittany. Can you forgive yourself?”

“You have been so kind and generous to me,” Quinn said. “You have no reason to, to take me in, to protect me from my father. You can simply.” She breathed in and gripped her collar. Specifically her pendant. “Can take this, and then you would really have power over me.”

“I swear, Quinn,” Rachel said, “I swear on my Barbara poster that I will never take that from you. And as long as you’re mine, cause you are now, I won’t let anyone else.” 

!-!-!-!-!-!

Brittany always loved dressing up. Whether in silly princess dresses, dress pants and button down shirts with untied ties, even just sleep shorts and tanks, she loved the feeling that new cloths gave her. The whole new identity. Like Cheerio!Brittany. That was a weird one, and she mostly took her cues on how to act like a Cheerio from Santana, but it was nice at the time, even if Quinn was being somewhat mean and sad most of the time. Being Cheerio!Brittany meant she could be friends with Quinn again, even if she didn’t see it that way. But she did now, so that was good. 

She really liked dressing up as Smart!Brittany, but that was rare and hurt a lot. Plus Santana said she shouldn’t, at least not any time soon. She enjoyed Child!Brittany, but it was a chore too, in its own way. Calm!Brittany was a bit dense, but still, she functioned pretty well considering a lot of things confused her. Sexy!Brittany was a lot of fun, like right now, when she and Santana would step out to an extremely attentive Rachel, her awesome wizard who should understand that familiars wore nothing, but didn’t because she was too shy about whatever reason she had for the boxer briefs only in her underwear drawer, and a red face Quinn who tried to hide the that she was staring blatantly at both of them. Which was awesome, since she knew that her fellow blondie stared at her lady, her, and Rachel none of them thought they noticed But Brittany noticed, and it was a good sign. A very good sign. Maybe Quinn at least knew she liked them. 

Quinn’s sperm donor was a terrible man, taking Lucy away from her friends and creating some horrible facsimile of her, and now they had her back, or at least was slowly getting her back. But she didn’t know she was coming back. She didn’t know that she could finally make choices; or maybe the choices over whelmed her, like it did when Brittany couldn’t decide what type of bread the duckies wanted, which reminded her to ask Rachie if they could go cause they were probably hungry, even if most were gone for the winter. And Lord Tubbington. She had to make sure her sister’s forgotten familiar hadn’t tried to take cover the mouse mafia.

No, time for less important matters. 

Brittany stepped out of the changing room and walked over to her wizard and sister-familiar. Rachel had her purse in her lap and swallowed as she stepped over, never looking up. “Brittany? Hun,” she said. 

“Yes?” Brittany said, stepping even closer, nearly falling over. Sannie could walk easily on heels. How’d she make it look so easily? 

“Why aren’t you wearing anything?” 

“What? Oh, right.” She had forgotten to at least put on her robe, or another corset, and she was dressed, just in Calm!Brittany, but it wasn’t like it really mattered, they had a private room, so it seemed right for her to be properly dressed anyways. “It’s fine.” 

Quinn tried so hard to face away from her, but Brittany watched the not-so-subtle glances and stares. Her pale skin turned red so easily. Tots adorable. “C’mon, I want to show you something.” She grabbed her hand and pulled her to hear feet without another word, then dragged her willingly-but-stubborn hot butt to one of the small changing rooms. 

A simple push while closing the door with her foot, and they were alone. “Hey.” 

Quinn covered her eyes and turned away.

“Psh,” Brittany replied, and grabbed her hands, pulling them just hard enough so she’d look at her body. “You’re pouting.”

“Brittany, please, I do not-“

“No,” she said. “You’re pouting and it’s not cool, so you’re going to get over it.”

“I am not pouting, and please, stop pulling on my hands.” 

“No, you’re pouting and you need to stop it, because we’re all here having fun and-“

“Brittany, please, I just-“

“But not enjoying the freedom you have, by being paralyzed with fear, by refusing to go forth and try to find who you are supposed to be, the person you should’ve been, you are still bound by your father’s will. You’re letting him control you. He’s still every where you are, telling you exactly what you should do” Brittany pulled away, her back against the door and her heels coming off, and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Damn that hurt.” Stupid brief burst of Smart!Brittany; stupid, stupid girl, she knew better than to dress like that. 

Quinn stood up, inched toward her, and pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. She stepped even closer and took her pulse on her throat. “Brittany, are you okay? What happened?” Brittany wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Quinn didn’t say a word. Good, if all it took for her to be herself was her getting hurt – that really did hurt – then it was worth it. Maybe. Sannie would be upset. And that meant no snuggles. Boo.

“Hey,” Brittany said and rested her head on her shoulders. She was the tallest of the Unholy Trinity, but only by an inch or two, which meant that Quinn was the perfect height for this. With Santana, she had to rest on the top of her hair, and Rachel was just a bit shorter than that. Quinn was awesome at hugs. She needed to do it more. “You should do this more often.”

“Brittany, please, tell me what is wrong,” Quinn replied. She didn’t pull away. Yay, progress. 

“I’m okay now.” She squeezed tightly and nuzzled her neck. Quinn was soft. And smooth. Very smooth. Her skin was extremely white, and Brittany sometimes, well Sexy!Brittany often did, dream of what it would feel like: exactly what she wanted it to be. “Just, hold me, kay? That helps.” Smart!Brittany was gone, and the headache slowly dissolved the longer Quinn held her. 

“Right, well,” Quinn said. “Brittany?” She rubbed her back, running a hand up her spine and to just above her butt. 

“Yes?”

“You are nude.”

“I am a polite, good girl,” she mumbled into her neck. Quinn didn’t stop though. “You take that back.” 

“No, not rude. Nude, you know, naked.”

“I know.” Quinn nodded and still didn’t pull away. “It’s okay, Quinn.”

“What is?”

“Making mistakes, trying new things, having fun. It’s okay to be like this.”

“I, I do not know, but,” she stuttered and tried to step back, but Brittany followed her movements until Quinn sat down on the bench, and she straddled her. She shifted on her lap and smiled as Quinn stared at her chest.

“They’re nice, aren’t they?”

“Huh?”

“Not as big as the rest of you,” Brittany continued. “But Sannie seems to enjoy them. A perfect mouthful, she says.” She sat back a bit and picked up her hands. “Here, feel them.”

Quinn didn’t resist while she made her cup her boobs. She swallowed and didn’t take her eyes off of their hands, her breasts. She also didn’t move at all, just held them. The least she could do was move her fingers. But the touch was softer, softer than she’d imagine and cool to the touch. She shivered at the continued contact. Quinn should have at least started massaging her by now. She was being the nude one; she gave her what she wanted, why couldn’t she? “What do you want?”

“Huh?”

“Quinn,” Brittany said, pulling hands away. She lifted her captain’s chin to look at her, only to smile as Quinn kept her eyes on her breasts, having to drag them up to look her in the eye. “It’s okay to want things.”

“I know, but-“

“They’re not gonna get taken away,” she continued. Brittany let go of her chin and cupped Quinn’s hands and her breasts. “Not this, which you should at least squeeze them a bit because – god yes, like that. I’m not talking about me, but you know, us, your freedom, your pendant. It’s all here to stay.”

“My father-“

“No longer part of your life,” Brittany said. While Smart!Brittany wasn’t with them anymore, Calm!Brittany understood with the sharply dressed, sharp woman was saying. She was at least about to still speak with a hot girl under her, even if she was clothed. “He’s not here, so he doesn’t get to control you.”

“Brittany, this is-“

“What do you want?”

“I do not-“

“Do you want to be happy?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Do we make you happy?” Quinn’s eyes dipped a bit, and Brittany giggled. “Eyes up while we’re talking. Play later. So, do we?”

“Yes, I guess,” Quinn said.

“There is no guessing. Yeah or nah, like a horsey, got it? So which is it? You a human, well, not really because you’re a kitsune, but still it’s the same idea, or you a horsey, in which case, I’m sure Rachel would love to ride you.” Quinn turned even brighter. “Human-like, got it. So do we?”

“Yes, you do?”

“You know what makes us unhappy, me especially?” Quinn shook her head. “You pouting and not having fun.”

“I make you unhappy?”

“Sad is a better word. And hurt.” When in doubt, she found it was best to lie and say someone hurt her, especially when Santana was being stubborn. It seemed to have the same effect: a trembling lip from Quinn and slight watering of the eyes. Yay, emotion. Boo, sadness. 

“I-Brittany, I had-“ 

“It’s okay, because no one taught you how to deal with people, so I’m gonna,” Brittany stilled her hands. “First off, with a pretty girl in your lap-“

“Beautiful,” Quinn corrected.

“Thank you, that’s nice,” Brittany said and kissed her cheek. “See when someone does something nice for you, like you complimenting me, which was so awesome and unprompted and if you were ready, there would be sexy-times with you, but you’re not so it’s okay, maybe later, or like me sitting in your lap and putting your hands on my boobs, you thank them. So what do you say?”

“Thank you?” Quinn said.

“For what?”

“For sitting in my lap?”

“And?”

“For letting me touch you.” Quinn smirked at her. “I know how to do this.”

“Good, I was gonna get tired of prompting you for everything,” Brittany leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Quinn’s neck. “So, is this okay?” Quinn shrugged, but eventually gave a small nod. She closed her eyes and rested against her forehead, breathing heavily onto her naked chest. Part of her thought she was starting at her boobs again, which was tots unfair because she still wanted to see Quinn’s but that’d be later. “It’s okay to like girls.”

“I know.”

“Your father was-“

“I know. I just-“

“It’s okay to like things. To enjoy them. So what do you want?” 

“I do not know,” Quinn said. “But I think I would like to find out.”

“Good answer.” Brittany kissed her cheek again, lingering just a bit to plant the seed. She squeezed her shoulders and stood up on the bench before jumping down, putting her pussy right into Quinn’s face for a moment. Sexy!Brittany wanted a solution, and sexy times, now, but Calm!Brittany understood not pushing too much. Besides, it was about the teasing. She got dressed into people cloths without changing Brittany’s. “No, I want you to at least try on a few, even if you don’t model for us, which would be so epic, because you really are so hot, and deserve to flaunt it, but you will try to find some you like.”

“Brittany, you do not get to order me around,” Quinn stood up and stepped towards her. Brittany pushed on her shoulders until she was seated again.

“Until you stop me, I do,” Brittany replied. “That’s how we play this game. And how Rachie likes it.”

“Likes what?”

“Why do you think we wear the leashes?” 

“Brittany, I do not understand.” 

She leaned down, cupped her face, and kissed her cheek, lingering even longer this time. When she pulled back, Brittany whispered into her ear, “So, you behave and do as I say, then maybe you’ll understand.” She stood back up and smiled at her friend. Lucy was coming back, and it’d be slow, but at least she was getting the idea that it was okay to enjoy something. “So, I’ll hand you some that you’d like, you try them on and tell me if you do or do not. That’s final. Deal. Or you’ll make me sad.”

“That is low,” Quinn said.

“I know, isn’t it awesome.” Brittany turned and walked out the door. 

 

“I know, isn’t it awesome.” Brittany turned and walked out the door. 

!-!-!-!-!-!

The rest of the shopping experience went smoothly. The girls had picked up the most basic needs, with a small amount of splurging on her familiars. Rachel found the extremely tight hug from Santana to be the best part of the trip, especially since she was wearing a corset that pushed up her breasts, garter with its belt, and a thong that showed just detailed she was in her hygiene habits (no she was not staring the entire time). Brittany stepping out completely naked was a close second. The only thing that would make it a fantastic day would have been seeing Quinn in skimpy things, though Brittany had at least persuaded her to try some on for herself. She did choose some finally, besides just some simple, cute panties and bras. She even had a small smile on her face. A massive change from earlier.

Though, the day was not without its challenges. Rachel had been born with some unusually characteristics that, while she was not ashamed about, she had felt it was important to hide that she possessed a penis from, well, most everyone. In the required gym course, which she was vehemently against, she changed in the stalls, using the excuse that she wished to avoid the taunts and jeers of her classmates. But in truth, she needed to make sure that no one else found out about her extra appendage. Compression shorts helped, but mostly she just stuck with a firm mental control and boxer briefs. 

Now that they were her familiars, Rachel hoped that she could trust them. They’d find out eventually. Sooner than she wanted, since Brittany declared as they were waiting for Quinn to finish trying some things on that she would cuddle with her tonight, while Santana and Rachel had the other side of the bed. Damn queen sized. She wanted it because she was gonna be the queen of Broadway, so why shouldn’t she have a bed that reflected that. 

After Victoria’s Secret, the quad walked about the rest of the mall, where Brittany found a candy shop she missed the day before (found was most likely a lie, and she just wanted some candy) and wanted to go inside, find get more. Santana found any reason she could to be as close as possible to her, holding her arm and pressing her bra-less chest against her arm. She rubbed her as she moved past or jumped in excitement, copying Brittany’s. Rachel found it strange to see the Latina so lively and childish when she normally received an angry and cruel Santana. At least her boxers did their job and kept her hidden, even if it took a moment for her mind to get her mind under control. Stupid fantasies. Stupid having three girls now living with her so she couldn’t handle the issue. By herself, in her bed. Alone.

Brittany didn’t pull too much on her leash, though bounced back and forth between item to item in the aisles, while Santana stayed glued to her side. Quinn walked right behind them, though occasionally touched her shoulder, whether to make sure she was still there or to inform Rachel she was with them. She’d have rather hold her hand, but that would do. For now. 

Lunch came and went quickly, and it was four by the time they returned home, and she sent her familiars to go put something else on. Dad would arrive home shortly, while Daddy would walk in sometime around five-five thirty. Until then, they had the house to themselves. And Brittany darted to the basement again. 

“She seriously is addicted, isn’t she?” Rachel asked Santana when she returned downstairs. She collapsed into their couch. She wasn’t necessarily tired, but her familiars were exhausting with their individual personalities. 

“Yeah, usually it’s only after she has an episode, you know,” Santana sat down next to her in the couch, curling into her. “But then again, she played most of the summer she wasn’t dancing or training for cheercamp, and she never had an episode then so.” She shrugged and rested her head on her shoulder, above the right hand side of her chest. “You smell good.”

“Not that I’m completely complaining, cause this is kinda awesome,” Rachel said, “but is there a reason why you’re like this?”

Santana sighed into her and shrugged again. “Britts is usually the – fucking bullshit.” She sat up and pushed Rachel away.

“There’s the Santana I know.” It hurt to know that she really didn’t want to be with her, whatever the reason. Nice Santana was cuddly, and she was enjoying the attention.

“Fuck this stupid bond,” she continued, pulling her feet up to her chest. Santana tried to curl into herself, but stopped when Rachel touched her bare feet.

“San, what’s wrong?” She felt the bond, the tentative connection between her and her familiars, and the girl in front of her was frightened, shivering so hard that it almost hurt. But none of that showed on her body, an expression only of her mind. Whatever she was afraid existed only to her. 

“I knew it. I fucking knew this would happened, except-“ Santana said.

“Should I leave?” Quinn asked. Rachel knew she went to use the restroom, though hadn’t paid too much attention to the fact that Quinn didn’t say a word about it. 

“No, I just, something’s wrong,” Rachel said. “I think I did something.”

“No, Tink, it’s not yoru fault.” Santana stretched out again, and her feet touched Rache’s knees. Quinn walked around the couch, only to pulled into her lap. “It’s mine for not fucking realizing it earlier.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. Rachel shifted around a bit until she was resting against the arm, her legs spread and touched Santana’s knees. Quinn squirmed in her familiar’s arms, kinda adorable really. 

“The bond, it’s, it’s not changing us,” Santana said. “But it is affecting us.”

“I do not want to be controlled,” Quinn said. She sat stiff, her arms crossed and feet dangling over the edge of the couch. 

“It’s not controlled.” Santana combed her hair and stared at Rachel, no smile or any emotion really. But Quinn relaxed into the touch, until she was leaning against her entirely, curling into her. “So don’t worry your fine ass off, kay? No, it’s more like guided. I guess that’s the best word. We’re being guided towards her.”

“Sounds eerily similar,” Quinn yawned and grabbed the neck of Santana’s shirt. 

“It is, but it isn’t. We’re ourselves in every way possible, we just really feel comfortable around Tink here. We wouldn’t do anything we didn’t want to, or hurt ourselves or anything like that. We could even argue with her, and it’s all be cool, but-“

“But you’d be so relaxed around me, you’d cuddle, and want to do other things right?” Rachel asked. Santana nodded. “Sweet.”

“There is no fucking way you’re completely okay with this,” Santana said. “Completely okay with the type of affection I give. I mean, I love my mami and stuff, but this is not that, I can fucking guarantee that. This is “Brittany-only” affection, and now I’ve got to include you and Miss Purity here. I know the odds of there being a lesbian in fucking Lima, especially with our population, and you are-“

“I am so proud of you to admit that.”

“Shove it, Tink. You know what I meant.”

“I’m a bit more fluid, I’ll have you know,” Rachel replied. “It’s wrong to put labels on things.” She pulled her legs closer and crossed them, grabbing a pillow to hug (and to help cover her lap). 

“And your sexual label is?” Santana smirked at her. Rachel stuck out her tongue. “Oh Tink, don’t start something you can’t finish. Cause there is someplace I’d love to-“

“Can you two not flirt while I am here?” Quinn muttered. 

“Jealous you’re not involved?” Rachel asked, smiling at her smile. 

Santana leaned forward a bit and whispered something into Quinn’s ear. Her face turned bright read and she tried to turn away, but Rachel felt the joy, the desire, the need, and want all emanating from the bond with Quinn. And a hint of-

“Are we having Sexy times? Cause it’s rather rude that you didn’t invite me,” Brittany sad. At least she didn’t jump when she said anything. It’s be rather embarrassing given how she’d easily snuck up on the blonde (silencing runes on her shoes were awesome. Shh). 

“No, we’re not doing that,” Rachel said. Brittany decided that her lap was the appropriate spot to sit, collapsing into her. She shifted under her, trying to get comfortable, but with a simple push of her hips, and she stilled under the blonde. 

“Boo, why not?” Brittany wrapped her arms around her neck, mimicking Quinn’s position with Santana.

“Yes, why not?” Santana asked. Quinn sat up slowly and stared at her. She pulled away from her.

“Because I’m not ready for it,” Rachel said. Brittany shifted on her, and she struggled to keep her thoughts as clean as possible. “I plan on waiting until I’m twenty five, after I’ve won two Tony’s and released a platinum record. Then, I should be ready. But not until then.”

“Not even-“

“I think I have made my stance pretty clear, Santana.” She glared at her from behind Brittany. Part of her hoped the bond would show that she really, really didn’t want to talk about it. 

For the most part, it was the truth. She wasn’t ready, though there was a bit more to it that none of them needed to know. With her unique biology, though common enough that her doctors weren’t that worried about her situation, she knew most people would simply run from her. Maybe by then, she’d find someone who’d like to date her, accept her. Granted, her original plan didn’t count on having three familiars who seemed to at least be someone interested in, an oddity given that less than a month prior they were harassing her. 

Her own issues aside, though, the sigh of relief that Quinn gave her was enough of a reason not to push the conversation any further. As much as they may joke, as much as she, or rather, certain parts of her wanted to, it wasn’t time yet. When all of them were ready, then she’d get involved. And maybe allow Brittany to have her constant request fulfilled.

“Fine, we’re going with the Cheerio motto then,” Santana said and pulled Quinn back down. She settled in again, and sighed against her chest as she combed her hair with her fingers. 

“You’ve mentioned that before, what does it mean?” Rachel asked. 

Brittany barked a laugh and squeezed her to her until her face was flush with her chest. With a small shimmy and a gentle thrust of her chest upward, nearly pushing her breasts into Rachel, she whispered softly, “it’s about the teasing, not the pleasing.”

Rachel swallowed, nodded, and remained as close as possible to Brittany as she could when she started a conversation up with her other familiars. She tried, she really did, but with Brittany twisted enough so she should have just straddled her, which after a moment or to, she did, though spun around and took her breasts away, Rachel gave up on keeping herself calm. Of keeping herself from reacting.

She breathed out heavily, shaking slightly. Brittany grabbed her hands and made her hold her stomach. She shifted again, and she felt herself hardening and, with every breath from Brittany, struggled to keep herself from moving with her. 

The trinity talked for about an hour, Rachel figured, given that her Dad arrived. Brittany was out of her lap after the first word left his mouth, and she drug Quinn with her. Leaving her sitting with a hard on in front of Santana. Her boxers were not as successful as they were before. 

“Wanky,” Santana said, staring at her skirt. She didn’t move. Damn her flight response so honed due to the predator in front of her. 

“Yes, well, the man-hands comment always hit a bit close to home,” Rachel replied.

Santana pushed up and crawled over to her, staring at her with a smile that she had never seen on her face before. The bond shook with each step towards her, and all Rachel felt was satisfaction and something warm and inviting. She couldn’t grasp the emotion. “So, what, is it what I think it is, cause-“

“I was born with it, if that’s what you’re asking. The doctors don’t know why, but the situation is common enough these days that they didn’t seem worried. I am female if that’s your next question. That’s how I identify, and I’d ask you to respect that.”

“It wasn’t. Does it work?” Santana stopped a few inches from her face, hovering over her. 

“Is that all that’s on your mind?” Rachel said.

“Most of the time, yeah, it is,” Santana smiled. Rachel tried to sit up away from her, but she gave in to the soft push back down. Her familiar leaned completely over her and smirked down at her. “You didn’t answer the question. Though I guess clearly it does because I am seeing Brittany’s effect on it.”

“I stand by my statement, Santana,” Rachel said. “I am not ready. I don’t feel comfortable enough with you, any of you yet. That level of intimacy requires trust and care, and while we are working towards it, granted accelerated due to our bond, need I remind you of our relationship prior to this whole arrangement. So while waiting until 25 is not really a full options, because all of you are really hot, I am not ready now.”

Santana sighed and pushed away, collapsing onto the rest of the couch with a hand to her forehead. “Don’t remind me. Seriously Tink, I know you ain’t the type to forget, but-“

“I’m just explaining, San,” Rachel replied. “It’s important you at least know where I’m coming from. And don’t you dare make a joke right now.”

“Fine, though you walked into it.”

“Whatever.” Rachel stood up and took a deep breath. While she may wish to follow through with the teasing, she couldn’t not now. Not so quickly. She need time to accept it fully, at least a bit more than knowing that she had three really independent familiars with their own wants and needs that she could barely anticipate. She needed to actually feel comfortable with three girls sleeping in her bed with her. Who may or may not have been part of her fantasies. “So please, just, can you not make fun of me?”

“Is that what you’d think I’d do?” Santana sat up slowly, staring at her face finally. “After the fact that you took me in? Took care of us? And everything?”

“Santana.” The bond shook, waivered, and turned blue in her mind. Not sky or anything like that, but somewhere in the distance she felt the midnight hue that came before a storm. Santana swallowed large breathes and shook her head, refusing to meet her eyes. “That isn’t-“

“Cause I am a bitch, we’ve discussed that,” she continued. “Everyone knows it. But I thought – I’m really trying Tink, to be good, and – really, I don’t want-“

Rachel stepped forward and hugged Santana, tried to pull her into her body. “San, no, please, don’t think that. It isn’t that.”

“I want to be good, damn it,” she sobbed. Santana, the biggest bitch of McKinley Academy, sobbed and cried into her shoulder. She gripped her shirt tightly and pulled her closer, even when trying to step back. Rachel held her and kept her from pulling away, going far enough to pull her closer as she lied back down on the couch. Santana let her position her body on top of her. “I really do. With you. You make me – damn it Tink.”

“Shh, its okay.” Rachel kissed the top of her head. Santana wept a bit louder and pulled a bit harder on her shirt. 

“It’s not okay.” She sniffed and rubbed her nose against her neck. “It’s not fucking okay.” 

“You’re a good girl,” Rachel said. She shook her head. “Yes, you are. You’re sweet, and gentle, and extremely affectionate.”

“No, I’m not,” she said, worlds slurring on her shirt. 

“That’s not your decision to make, puppy,” Rachel said. Santana giggled wetly. “You’re my familiar, it’s my call. Not yours.”

“I am-“

“An adorable little coyote who likes to be petted.” Rachel scratched her back. Santana loosened her grip and wrapped a leg around hers. 

“Both ways,” she said. Rachel laughed and hugged her tightly. 

“Sure, but this is all you’ll get from me for the moment, kay?” Santana nodded, and Rachel felt the smile against her wet shirt. “You’re a good girl. You’ve been very good. Don’t think otherwise.”

“Fine,” Santana said. 

“I’ll tell you if you’re not, so you can understand why you’re being punished.”

“Is that why B’s so excited about spankings?” Santana asked, then laughed at how Rachel stilled. “Wanky.”

“You’re all perverted.” 

“Quinn’s the worst, just you wait.”

“She’s the head of the Chasity Club, you even called her Miss Purity.” Rachel sat up slowly to rest against the couch arm. “She’s never-“

Santana sighed into her stomach and hugged her tightly. “She’s also the smartest girl in the school. Don’t you know, Tink, that it’s always the brainy ones?”

“You three are gonna kill me.” Santana laughed and kissed her side. “Seriously, you and Bri are like horny rabbits it seems and now Quinn’s gonna be worse? So not fair.” 

Rachel thought she’d at least not have to worry about Quinn encouraging this, not really pressuring but just enjoying the physical side of all what’s happened. That’d she have someone in her corner to keep the other two under control. But when Quinn’s real personality developed, and it would be soon at some point, then she was gonna die. Probably under the touch of all three and their smiles. 

“But a way to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Gotta say folks, I was not expecting this kind of feedback and desire to read this. I didn’t think I was even gonna write any more of it. But you twisted my arm, so to speak, and I may or may not had this chapter mostly done when I posted the first one. You’ll never get it out of me. 
> 
> Seriously folks, I love the reviews and the interest, and the fact that people want to see more of this makes me really apprehensive about posting because I want to live up to your expectations. That being said, I’m gonna post anyways because I like writing and this is a fun story to work with. 
> 
> Over all, this chapter continues what I started which is just an exploration of the character’s experiences with their bonds, and partly how it is messing with their heads, especially the familiars. Hopefully this lives up to everyone’s expectations. If it doesn’t, don’t stone me.
> 
>  
> 
> Sadly, I do not own glee. If I did, I would not have decided to destroy every bit of character development between Rachel and Santana for no goddamn reason. Fuck Ryan Murphy. Glee Fandom folks, the only fandom that hates itself more than you hate it. Best line from tumblr ever.
> 
> Thank you all for reading this, and please continue to read and review. It’s like crack to me. I snort it and it energizes my writing.
> 
> Because I can,  
> SurrealSteamPuckk(WeOffendedShadows)


	3. School Daze and Icy Haze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reminder of Winter Break was odd, for lack of a better term. Rachel found that while completing her homework that the professors seemed to employ to torture them was something of a standard for her, the Unholy Trinity were slackers. Well, not Quinn. She had it done prior to school even being let out. Brittany and Santana, especially the latter, had fought her the entire time on finishing their work.

The reminder of Winter Break was odd, for lack of a better term. Rachel found that while completing her homework that the professors seemed to employ to torture them was something of a standard for her, the Unholy Trinity were slackers. Well, not Quinn. She had it done prior to school even being let out. Brittany and Santana, especially the latter, had fought her the entire time on finishing their work.

There was a schedule developed for Brittany that allowed her time to play the multitude of games in her basement, mainly so she didn't hide down there the entire break, focused on the games. Not that she really needed it. She'd come when called and always liked to watch the Disney and kids movies that Rachel had in the living room. In fact, whenever Rachel turned in for the night, she'd be right beside her, no matter what part of the game she was finishing. No complaints, no issues, just a smile or a hug, often accompanied by some off-hand comment about as a familiar they were misbehaving, not wearing the proper cloths, and should be scolded properly.

Santana, on the other hand, was probably one of the laziest, yet athletic people she knew. She would sleep and lounge wherever she could, often around one of them. She would curl into them, especially Rachel, even after the whole "bond is making me do it so it means nothing" thing. It was just an excuse, but she never complained about it. Physical affection was awesome, and the fact that Santana seemed to thrive on it was even better. Other times, she'd find her on elliptical going faster and longer than Rachel ever could. Took the longest to get her homework done, and even then she was unsure if she just copied off of Brittany and Quinn in every subject besides the sciences.

Quinn and Rachel fought throughout the week, mostly over little things, with small compromises. It was a way for her to find herself, and at least never ended in tears. At least, she didn't think so. She always came back and apologized if she was wrong (which sadly was only once), and whether or not she was wrong, she'd just copy Santana and curl into her side. For the most part, it was easy.

Until Quinn wanted to get her hair cut and dye it pink. Rachel wanted only the first one.

They fought over it, mostly with Rachel putting her foot down, while Quinn wanted to express her individuality, to step away from her father's image. There was yelling and screaming, but it ended in a hug and a final plea, begging her to not go so far from her father's beliefs just to be contrary. Quinn went and hid in the guest room for the rest of the day, while Rachel scheduled an appointment for the Sunday before they returned.

Afterwards, sitting in the front parlor, Rachel smiled as bright as she could when Quinn stepped out with the most adorable messy cut she'd ever seen on her. She'd refused to meet her eyes and shyly asked how'd it look. Rachel hugged her as tight as she could, and it felt wonderful that Quinn returned it with the same pressure.

Her familiars accepted her, and they were almost friends, though a bit of the strong willed nature came out. The most prominent time was when Rachel wanted them to sleep in separate beds after Santana and Brittany mentioned her cock to Quinn, right as they were getting ready for bed. She stammered and stuttered her way through it, and then she found herself being pulled onto the bed with Santana wrapped in her arms and Brittany in front. Quinn held Santana. They was no other mentioned of it, at least directly, though her familiars seemed to love to tease her even more, especially when her dads weren't home. Santana stole all of her boxers one day, and pants, and skirts, leaving her with just her sweats. The blush stayed on her face the entire day, especially since all three of them took turns sitting in her lap, even when her dads were home.

Damn the Cheerio motto.

Everything was wonderful, except for the fact that it ended. School had approached quicker than she wanted, and while her familiars were extremely comfortable with her, Rachel doubted that same comfort level and attention would continue when they stepped into the Academy. The Headmaster had been contacted, and all of their schedules had been adjusted to meet the highest of their abilities (Rachel's demand). She refused to let any of their abilities go to waste, even if she required tutoring from the change.

Her dads hugged each of them, with Daddy lingering on Quinn, whispering something in her ear. All three wore their collars with their leashes. Only Santana's didn't clash, but they were so adorable on them. They left early enough so Rachel could learn the new schedule. Apparently, she was the only one with a real change, cause the Unholy Trinity was on a completely different schedule than her "average" one, which Santana found to be an excellent teasing topic to use. Another thing Rachel learned was the difference between teasing and mocking. She liked being teased, because it was usually accompanied by a hug from one of her familiars.

They dressed in winter gear, though the Unholy Trinity wore just their coats over the Cheerio uniform they were required to wear. Rachel stuck with her semi-heavy black trench coat, with leggings and a heavy shirt for the rest of the day. She drove them to school, though took her time, her foot wavering over the pedal but never really pressing down with any force.

No one spoke on the ride over. No one said a word when they got out of the car, not watching him drive away. No one said anything until Professor Sue Sylvester stopped them just before they walked into the hallowed halls, what a stupid descriptor, of McKinley Magical Academy.

"Musical, what the hell are my Cheerios looking like some cheap show dogs?" Sylvester stepped forward, blocking them from entering the building.

"They're my familiars, Professor," she said, though she couldn't meet her eyes. Quinn stepped up next to her, just a bit in front of her in fact. "It's only appropriate."

"What's appropriate? I thought you were smart enough to read the rules," Sylvester replied. Santana stepped to her other side, pushing her back just a little bit. "Especially given how much you are a stickler for them, even when others aren't."

"Professor, I don't-"

"Intelligent Familiars aren't required to have leashes. In fact, they shouldn't ever be leashed, though some are foolish enough to do so, despite best judgment," She said, then turned and walked away. "Blonde Hepburn, my office, now." Rachel stared at her as she disappeared into the building, though she felt her familiars staring at her. At least it wasn't a glare.

"We don't need these?" Santana asked. Rachel looked at her, but she just smiled at her, the same one she had when she wanted to cuddle and rest on her. She turned around to see the rest of them, to see their judgment. But none was there. Quinn was smirking, raising an eyebrow while Brittany was pouting. "Wanky."

"What, I don't, you're okay with this?" Rachel asked.

"Did you know that?" Quinn added. "Of course you did. Sue was right that you would be too thorough not to."

"Like I said, wanky." Santana stepped closer to her, gripping and holding her. "Anything else we should know?"

Rachel blushed and struggled to look her in the eye. It wasn't a complete lie. She did tell them familiars were required, and they were. Intelligent familiars weren't. She just liked the idea of them on them, how they stayed close, and hung on her. Plus it was kinda nice to see them with the collar and the leash. Leather would also be nice with maybe a few chains and piercings, and- Just a bit wanky. "Anything else you did not tell us? Like do we need these collars?" Quinn asked.

"No, those are required," Rachel answered, looking down. Her chin was pushed up and Brittany looked at her. "They need to know who to punish if you do something wrong. Who to contact if you get lost or something. It's kinda weird and-"

"We don't need these?" Brittany asked.

"No, not really." Rachel felt a pressure on her chest; she made Brittany sad with her lie. It was wrong to ever do that.

"But, I like it." She gripped her end until her knuckles were white. "I don't want to-"

"It is fine if you keep yours, B," Quinn said and unhooked her leash. Her smile never left her. Santana paused a moment for doing the same. The pout disappeared from Brittany, turning into the smile that Rachel loved seeing on her. "It is a choice thing, correct?"

"Yeah, I just-"

"It's wanky, that's what it is," Santana said. "So very, very hot, Tink. Seriously. Who know that you'd be so-"

"And explains a bit about the room you wanted," Quinn added. "Something about your Dad not being comfortable talking about the topic, especially around your Daddy. Maybe because it has to do with the same topic Brittany keeps asking about."

"Really? Please, we need to get them to-" Brittany practically hopped in place.

"It'd mean converting the basement," Rachel blushed and looked away. She was pulled into a hug by Quinn, the back of her head cupped and pressed to her sternum. Something about that red and white uniform beneath the open pink coat that just made her boxers a bit uncomfortable. Well at school. She'd be fine if it was home. At least she wore one of her few torn skirts that went down to her knees. "And I don't know where'd be put the games and tv."

"It is fine, my wizard," Quinn said. "I guess we did deserve it, even though it was before our fun we had with you during break. Though now, I wonder if we should change our approach. Maybe a bit more direct." Somewhere in the past week, Quinn had become very comfortable, taking charge again with all of them, even though she'd defer to Rachel on some things. Rachel wondered if that uncertainty would always remain. At least, after their screaming match over her hair, a spark of old Quinn, transformed by her acceptance of their relationship, showed itself.

"We've been so bad," Brittany added. Santana pressed up against her, squeezing her between her and Quinn. "Very bad."

"You're evil all of you." She shivered against them, and Santana pushed her hips against hers.

Santana barked a laugh, and her familiars backed up. "Should've realized that by now."

"Rachel," Quinn said. "Besides your unique desires, there was another reason for the leashes you wanted, correct?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Of course there was. It was really the main reason, but they didn't have to know that.

"It was about protecting yourself, ensuring we'd be there," Brittany said. "That'd you be safe from the rest of the school."

"You saved us," Santana said. "Well, Q and I. Britts just was the smarter one of us and joined without a second thought. I'm still blaming the bond for this sappy emotion thingie you've stuck me with. Seriously, you broke me, not cool."

Rachel looked back and forth between her familiars. "That's not-"

"You protected us," Quinn continued. "Me. By offering me a haven, a home. A place where I am." She trailed off and looked away. "Sue is expecting me, most likely to inform me of the stupidity of this decision. I will see you at the beginning of homeroom, okay?"

"Yes, I guess," Rachel said. "You're not mad? Cause I'm sorry that I lied to you, it was just my, you, this year has kinda sucked, not as bad as last year, but still, and-"

Quinn stepped into her space again and kissed her forehead. "Thank you, my wizard." She walked away without looking back, through the massive wooden doors that opened for her as she neared. Rachel stared at her. She reached up and touched her forehead, a slight wetness was there, but the warmth traveled throughout her. Staying with her the entire time.

"C'mon Tink, I needs my caffeine before class or else someone's gonna die." Santana stole her bag and stepped in front of her Brittany followed, gently touching her back. Rachel stared after Quinn for a moment before running to catch up with them, Brittany pulling on her leash.

They didn't care? They weren't upset by the fact that she'd lied to them? In fact, they, especially Brittany, liked the idea. Quinn had grown more affectionate, though her emotions were so reserved, it was difficult to see it sometimes. She initiated the hug for the first ever, and Rachel didn't know how to handle that the Ice Queen was perfectly okay with the whole situation. Hell, she didn't know how to handle the fact that all three of them were okay with it, that it appeared that they wanted it.

High School was weird.

!-!-!-!-!-!

Quinn Fabray was afraid of no one. Not anymore. Not after Rachel had decided she was going to protect her. For past five years, no one had been there for her, except herself. She had been alone. She missed Santana and Brittany fiercely, but was ordered to no longer be friends with them. An order she followed without question or complaint. She was isolated in a large group of people, and left to ensure that it stayed that way, so whoever her father decided was right for her, which looked more and more like Finn Hudson, the creep and pervert, that would be all she had.

But Rachel, sweet and kind and not so innocent it seemed Rachel, had decided that she would stand up and defend her against everything, anything. That was what it meant to take on a familiar, to be responsible for another magical being. She knew the relationship, had Brittany and Mr. H Berry explained to her. Between Santana, Brittany and Rachel, she had nothing to fear. Then Mr. L Berry spoke up and said he'd ensure it. Whatever that meant. She noticed that people gave him wide birth when they were out for whatever reason.

The leash gone only in physical form, Quinn walked a bit taller, stronger, better. Everything was better. And she would die before that changed.

The McKinley Magical Academy was a strange and unique school for the magical youth. Once, it was an experimental school where students did not remain for the majority of the year. They were taught more than just magical rules, spells, and all its related subjects. Instead the curriculum included everything that was once considered mundane. It was important to understand why magic should or should not be done, she was taught. More importantly, when it actually use it. For Lima, it was a greatest thing ever. For the rest of the States, it was nothing but the odd step child. Until the results came in ten years prior on the intelligence, the success, and, the intelligence, and most importantly the power of the students in any field they chose.

Construction of the Academy was an appeasement to the ancient ways of their world: solid stone, rich wooden doors, and foreboding classrooms. The electricity defied that tradition and was in agreement of the school's purpose: change and progress. Lockers stood in the expansive basement of the two story monstrosity, meant for the near one thousand students to store their belongings when not using them. Chemistry was right next to Alchemy and Potions. Literature was taught across from the Conjurations and Charms courses. Runes stood in the same hallway with their Maths. The Sciences spread out in the building, just like their Elemental Theory classes. There was a plan to things, even if Quinn did not understand it. Yet.

Sue's office was on the second floor, behind some hard oak doors. She was the Cheerio and dueling coach. She approached both with the same philosophy: you are stronger than them; faster; better than they ever could be, and you will prove it. The Cheerios was mostly conditioning and strength training, despite winning seven years in a row Nationals. Dueling was Sue's pride and joy; it was where her insanity really shown through.

"Inside Quinn," She said from the other side of the door. Quinn rolled her eyes and stepped through the opening door.

The room was bare, save the trophies she won for both the Cheerios and her own personal wins from the dueling circuit. The mahogany desk was scratched, burnt, and chipped. It should not be standing. Sue sat at it, papers stacked meticulously on over it, while pens and quills stood patiently waiting in a small beaker she stole from one of the alchemy labs.

Quinn stood in front of the desk, relaxed and arranged her face in a bored expression. Sue rarely spoke to her directly, as a student. A Head Cheerio, she was often called on for tasks, but never by her name, or even anything resembling it.

"I see that you've found it," Sue said. She stared right at her, though Quinn refused to break eye contact.

"I do not know what you are referring to," Quinn replied.

"It took you long enough."

"Again, I-"

"Cut the crap. There is a reason, after all, why you have that collar." Sue stood up, and Quinn's hand covered her tag, her pendant. "There is a reason why you actually feel like you have magic."

"Sue, this is beginning-"

"I'm not done yet," Sue said. "No, Streisand, more likely her father really, decided that in some crazy world, the best way to protect you is to make you a familiar, no? And oddly enough, it worked. You have a bond now, the three of you. My toughest, strongest, students are now pets to a second-rate backroom performer."

"Do not call her that." She growled. She actually growled. It sounded correct coming from her. Quinn cracked her knuckles as she squeezed and opened them. "Never do that again."

"There's the fire that's been missing," Sue smirked at her. She walked around her desk and stepped of her. Quinn did not move. "There's what I've wanted to see for two years."

"You will-"

"You're right, I won't. Not because you threatened me, blood and stones, no. The three of you are way too weak to actually do anything to me. But I won't because that girl has made the three of my greatest students ever into even better ones."

Quinn relaxed, only a little bit, dropping her hand from her pendant.

Sue reached behind her and grabbed a small stack of folders. "Here's your new schedule, all of yours. Q, sand-bags, and Miss-Head-in-the-Clouds are reporting to my course now. Included are the items the three of you will need."

"We will not leave Rachel."

"Course not, she's joining you, though she will not participate. She hasn't the power, nor the inclination, to duel properly. Sneaky dwarf that she is."

"Fine, is there anything else?" Sue shook her head. "Then I take my leave, Sue." Quinn spun around and walked out the door.

She did not relax until she was down to the basement, until she was that Sue was far behind her. That she knew exactly what Quinn was, what had hurt and controlled her, was disturbing. Though, she now basically gave them her protection and took over their instruction. Of all scenarios Quinn had expected, this was not one of them.

Quinn, her familiar-sisters, and her wizard were assigned new lockers, in accordance to keep them all together as much as possible. While technically, they could leave her side, she did not believe that was a reasonable option.

Her bond with Rachel was stronger now. Instead of a faint tug on the far end of her mind, it was a pinprick. Not on the forefront of it, but close enough that she was aware of her wizard and her emotions. A bit smaller were Santana and Brittany, though mostly she felt their pleasure and joy at making Rachel happy, or her touching them.

She should have been worried about the easy acceptance of the whole situation. But Santana was correct. It was not control. Rachel had no control over her. They fought enough over the reminder of the break to prove that, mostly with Quinn trying to see how far she could do, her hair cut as the prime example. She pushed and pushed, trying to find the boundary that the bond would pull her back. But it never did. In fact, it never made her feel bad for her actions. Rachel never made her feel like she had done wrong.

Instead, the bond reaffirmed everything good that she felt about Rachel, and ensured she knew it was reciprocated. Rachel cared for them, greatly. More than Quinn thought she should. For one and half years, she made her life as close to hell as possible, and while this year lessened, it did not stop. Instead, her wizard forgave them all, and she welcomed them into her home, to protect them against everyone.

She stepped around five year thirteens and ignored their glares at her. Any other time, she would have glared back, but it seemed worthless at the moment. The more important thing was down the hall. Quinn stepped lighter when she saw Rachel digging through her locker with Santana looking around and Brittany holding her. She walked quicker, sliding past the large crowd of students arriving for first bell.

Then Azimio stepped around the corner and held a large slushie.

Magic was forbidden in the hallways, partly to protect the years nine and ten, but mostly trying to prevent an all-out war of escalation. Hence, the need for mundane methods of bulling. The slushie had been around long before Quinn arrived, but she took control and turned it into a weapon of terror and pain within a year.

Azimio stepped through the separating crowd to use it and threw frozen hell into Rachel's face.

!-!-!-!-!-!

Brittany linked pinkies with Rachel for the entire walk to their lockers, leaving Santana to follow behind. She didn't understand exactly why, but frankly it was awesome, whatever reason she choose to do it. Santana had no problem with her best friend, well, one of, doing so. In fact, it just made everything even better. In fact, she should have added the leash to her and Brittany's sexy-times a while go if she ahd known how awesome it was, and TInk. She should have definitely added Tink.

Rachel was right in calling her out over it couple days ago. Her mind focused pretty strongly on sex. She enjoyed it, kinda, with the boys she found last year, though only one was attentive to her needs. Sexy-times and lady-kisses were so much better and she missed being able to do it with Brittany. The promise of times later with both Tink and Q, though, totally worth spending time to wait. It wasn't her fault she liked to indulge herself every once in a while.

(She was getting frustrated since her personal time didn't take the edge off any more.)

Plus, teasing her wizard was so much fun. The boxer prank? Best idea ever, even though it wasn't hers, and Tink turned a bright red for the rest of the day. Between the three of them, she sweated and constantly tried to avoid them in the morning. That didn't last long. Quinn pinned her to the couch to watch a movie, which they bickered about for ten minutes and forced Santana to actually put it on. When Q got up to use the restroom, Santana took her seat and curled even closer to Tink, grinding into her. She felt a twitch from her cock and a purr escaped as Rachel slowly wrapped an arm around her. She couldn't remember the movie, though the slight thrusts from Tink were so wanky. When lunch time came around, they finally stood up, and went to the kitchen. Brittany had prepared some food, which was strange cause she really couldn't cook, but sandwiches were somewhat in her realm of skills. Once Rachel sat down, she took her turn. Wash, rinse, repeat, and they made sure there was a great deal of rubbing it in. Even when her dads returned, Q continued to torture and tempt her, even if she certainly wasn't ready. When they crawled into bed,

( Tink loved it, even if she denied it and had to hide in her room, by herself, for thirty minutes. Three times. Go them. )

Speaking of, having dads was kinda awesome. Her father died when she was young, and while Santana loved her Mami, and she did, part of her missed her greatly and calling her a few times helped with that, there was something about a Dad that just made a different. Hiram took the time when he got home from the clinic to talk with her about the magibiology shit she was interested. Leroy, well, that man was the shit, and no one could tell her otherwise. Ever.

The week was one of the best she had had in a long time. Spending time with B, just relaxing and watching her smile without having to worry about any form of pretense or falsehood. Enjoying her caps smiling, for real this time, over the silliest of things and fighting their wizard just cause. And then there was Rachel.

Santana hated and loved the bond at the same time. It was a bane on her life, mostly, but she'd never give it up, no matter how much she'd complain, which would be a lot. It annoyed her to feel so needy and cuddly, so expressive, but the fact that she could, with two others besides Brittany, was kinda nice. She hated how she desperately wanted to be good for Rachel, to do the right then, then often would screw it up, no matter how simple the task was. She was still a bitch, and hurt Rachel a few times, and that hurt more than anything else, nearly as bad as watching Brittany cry. Shit just wasn't right. Santana Maria Lopez doesn't do emotions.

But fuck, does she do kinky. The fact that Tink was perfectly okay with a little leather? Awesome. That she liked tying them up (the collars and leashes were there for a reason)? Ever better. That she had, from what she could tell, a cock bigger than most men she had the horror to sleep with and the three of them were slowly breaking her down? Epic ass-shit that's what it was.

Santana didn't like the leashes, at least not until Rachel let go that she enjoyed them wearing them for non-legal reason, then that entered her territory. She'd have to have a talk with-

There was a great disturbance in the force. As if a million peons cried out in defiance.

Rachel reached her locker and rambled on and on about some silly thing involving her music lessons, which she would promptly start up again now that break was over, and Brittany was more than welcome to join her dance ones. Brittany hovered right by her, played with her canary yellow cloth leash, and leaned into her. Santana stepped back and dropped her bag.

She scanned the hallway, but the basement sucked and crowded. While McKinley was in the process of moving some of the lockers out of the fucking damp and smelly hallway, it was slow and they were handed out for favors, probably handies. Most likely handies. She was sure.

Too much was happening, and she barely heard over the too-large crowd, even focusing through her non-corporeal senses. A spirit coyote wasn't what people thought it was. While, yes technically, she was an intelligent animal, it was more that her ancestors had some distant relationship with the trickster himself, and well, things went from bad to wanky really fast, and a few generations later, there she was. She possessed a secondary coyote form but she rarely used it, despite its playful and happy nature, as well as the joy and laughter at other's expense, shown through.

She had been slowly learning what she could, since apparently no one else in her family was as awesome as she was had this wicked form. It was about subtlety, watching and learning, and fucking with people whenever she could get away with it. She wasn't powerful, at least in the traditional sense, but Santana always had a knack for making everything out of nothing. After all, she hadn't really found anything she couldn't trick yet. For the moment, it didn't matter. Nothing did if she couldn't watch over her wizard.

A smell, sickly sweet cherries danced through the air, but she couldn't place it. Santana closed her eyes, focusing on the increasing scent, but it drifted amongst everything else, everyone else. Fuckers have got to stop wearing AX. It's not a fucking replacement for a fucking bath. If she was allowed, she'd slushing that year nine just on principle now, maybe a-

She opened her eyes and turned just in time as Azimio walked by Rachel and threw an extra-large cherry slushie into her face.

Fuck subtle.

!-!-!-!-!-!

Brittany felt like dancing as they walked through the hallways. She got to keep her leash, even if Quinn and Santana had to be bad familiars and remove theirs. She'd prove to her wizard just how awesome she was, and why she deserved a reward. Though, maybe she'd be punished for not following her sister-familiars, which would be awesome too. Everything was great.

Over the remainder of the break, she played as much video games as her wizard would let her. As much as Daddy L would. He talked with her after the second shopping trip just to ensure she was okay. Apparently, he and Daddy talked about her and just how things were and why it was important over many things that didn't involve video games or duckies or Rachel or Santana or duckies or Quinn, can't forget her. Can never forget her.

Quinn had stepped out of whatever hole she had been forced into. It wasn't Quinn Fabray, or even Lucy Q, but Brittany liked this Quinn. She liked who her new friend had decided she should be. Kinda sweet really. This semi-crazy, confused Quinn fighting with their wizard, but caving completely because she liked to see her smile. The process wasn't done, they'd know when everything was better, when she was okay, and her father's influence had stopped hurting her. No one should hurt her, or any of them. Rachel made sure of it.

Her wizard was the best ever. Really, it was fact. She had papers. She had reports. In crayon, so it's all official and everything.

Rachel protected all of them. She might not think it that way, or even realize just how much she did for them. Her especially. She felt, well, calmer was the best word she found. Santana was great at keeping her balanced and even, but Rachel made it so she could think and see. She could be Brittany through it all. Not have to wear these different outfits just to deal. She could be herself.

She worried for no reason about her cock. It was really nice from what she felt that second day, and then making her sleep with them, cuddle with them, even better cause if she was comfortable with them like that, it was like one step away from proper attire for familiars. Which was very important things. Like the extra people in the basement, watching them as they went to their lockers.

Brittany pressed a hand to her forehead.

She played with Rachie's hair and jumped back, clapping at the small laugh from her.

Dance!Brittany came up with the plan to steal all of Rachel's underwear, skirts, and pants. It was strange to her too, since she only came out when she was dancing, but it was even better. Sexy!Brittany added sitting in her lap. Sannie and Quinn agreed right away. They learned at least the importance of team work and togetherness. If only she could get them to agree to wearing the correct cloths.

Best idea ever. She got to sit on Rachie's lap third, but that was the best time cause not only was she rock hard, she was relaxed, kinda, enough to wrap an arm around her waist and nuzzle her neck. Such an awesome day.

Things weren't perfect, what with Quinn trying to assert her dominance with Rachel, and losing, her trying to find herself. Santana lied about the house and did nothing until Rachel forced her to complete her homework. And there may or may not have been some twelve hour video campaigns. It wasn't her fault. The rebels were asking for it and needed to be destroyed.

Brittany shook her head, squeezed her eyes shut for only a moment, and smiled at a stopped Rachel. She reached down and took her pinky, and they started to skip. Her wizard giggled for the rest of the walk down the hallway, with Santana parting the crowd for them.

Yes, the break was wonderful. Everything was wonderful. Quinn was happy. Santana was wonderful and more cuddly than she'd ever been. And her? Things didn't hurt as much and it was like –

She looked around, blinking away the tears. Year Thirteens stood near the south entrance, their endless bags just hanging at their sides. Two Jocks for Splatterball, the other three were some clique that hated the Cheerios, specifically Quinn for the power she held over the five levels. They whispered back and forth, and the younger students just looked dazed and confused, probably wondering what to do.

It started. She felt that burn seeping through her nails, growing slowly. Something was off. Smart!Brittany noticed something. Child!Brittany was worried about something. Something horrible possibly. But enough that she was worried. But for her, no not her.

Brittany smiled down at her wizard. Rachel beamed back and leaned into her.

She took a deep breathe, holding it down.

Her fingers started to hurt, a heat growing up to her forearms.

The cold ice of the slushie splashed on her uniform as Azimio throw an extra-large on Rachel.

!-!-!-!-!-!-!

Rachel slid her coat into her locker and checked her hair in the mirror. It was messy, though Brittany was to blame for that. Though blame was the wrong word, more like contributed to. She laughed and smiled, and it was contagious. Santana warned her about it, about how happy and silly Brittany could get, but it was too wonderful not to indulge.

Brittany hugged her, and Rachel just leaned in, letting her arms wrap around her. She a bit warm, but still, it was nice to have another person's arms around her. Even if she couldn't stay like that forever. She stepped back, though Brittany was reluctant to let go, she did, giving her a pout. Rachel smiled, petted her hair, and turned around.

Azimio threw an extremely large and full cherry slushie into her face, coating her from the top of her head to the bottom of her shirt.

Her eyes and mouth opened and everything.

Rachel spat out what she could, but the frozen drink, in combination with the cold hallway, did it get even colder, did nothing for her mental acuity. Not that it was diminished or anything, but really, the cold was –

Fucking Barbara. The slushie seeped through her shirt, and the frozen processed concoction soaked into her bra. One of her nicer ones, too, damn it. It dripped down her back into her skirt and trailed down her boxers into her thigh-highs. Fucking sticky shit. No tears. She promised herself that. Always. Conceal, don't let it show.

This was supposed to end. She was supposed to be protected. The Unholy Trinity were her friends. They liked her. They were the most powerful students in the school, despite being year tens. Things were supposed to change.

But they never do, do they? The more things change, the more they stay the same.

A violent scream, a rush of wind, and terrible cold cut through the hallway. Then silence. A crowded hallway that had most of the years nine and ten. No one moved. No one spoke. She heard footsteps as they walked towards her.

!-!-!-!-!

{ }

!-!-!-!-!-!

The world shook.

It was the easiest thing in the world to trick the earth into thinking she was moving with it, while instead she stood still just long enough so she was next to Azimio. It was the easiest thing in the world to trick the crowd into thinking she didn't have claws at his throat, or that she was a pale transparent blue, flickering in and out, wisps grasping at her edges. And it would be the easiest thing in the world to end him right now.

Another roar, then a scream, and she paused. Azimio didn't matter. Brittany mattered. Quinn mattered. Rachel mattered.

She could not speak. But a growl ripped through her throat, and she smiled at how it rippled on his skin. Azimio shivered under her touch.

Good.

!-!-!-!-!

The world grew cold. Not just the air around her, or the hallway, but everything. It scratched along her skin, stretching through her limbs and out her finger tips and toes. But she was not uncomfortable.

Under a normal winter day, during a normal year, she would have found the heaviest blanket she owned, curled up next to the fire, and tried to accomplish homework. Since finding her pendant, since finding Rachel, the cold rarely bothered her any more.

Ice cracked under her shoes, and Quinn glided over to the terrified Azimio. Santana held him under a single translucent blue hand wrapped around his head, claws extended and pressed against his cheek. She growled into him, and wisps of her reached out and gripped at nothing. "Everyone was informed," she said. The silent hallway parted for her as she continued towards the semi-pinned jock. "In fact, I am well aware that Professor Sylvester informed everyone. The order was extremely basic."

Her tails dance swished and danced behind her, under her cheerio skirt, through her spanks. A hum grew from her chest, her heart, and erupted throughout her body, forcing itself into every part of her.

Her breathe frosted, and she paused. Rachel shivered, and did not bother to wipe the dripping slush from her face, her cloths. Quinn stepped over to her. She looked small, tired, and ready to break at any moment. Behind her, Brittany stood, fists bunched up and eyes shut as tight as she could. She breathed out her nose in tandem with the shaking from her wizard.

Somewhere, deep within her, the bonds echoed. From Santana, red poured forth from the blue and shadow end, shaking with each breath. Brittany's burned so hot, the sun on a summer's drought, and the distance between Quinn and it mimicking the real distance towards the sun. But Rachel's, she felt the sadness, the despair, and loneliness dance along her consciousness. Her wizard hurt so much and believed that she would do nothing.

Quinn gripped her pendant, the metal bit into her palm, and tore it from her neck. She tossed it up, and the opal floated and slid out of her sight. The opal changed, grew larger and larger, and pulsed an empty pressure in the hallway. Light dissolved from the room, until only a small moon illuminated the hallway. Despite not touching her, her energy, her magic, burned bright within her and sung electric.

Behind her, someone stomped and huffed. They did not move.

Acceptable for the moment.

"No, this will not do," Quinn said. She raced out and ran her the back of her fingers alone Rachel's sticky cheek. Her wizard leaned into her touch, trying to follow it as she traced her wet cheek. As Quinn pulled away, the ice and cold followed. Red streaked from Rachel and orbited around Quinn's fingers. The slushie crawled up and out of her clothing, picked from the threads, then tossed into the air, meeting every ounce from the cup. In under a moment, Rachel was dry and clean. No stickiness. No cold. Nothing but two rosy, cute cheeks and an adorable nose that wiggled for a moment. Her wizard smiled, her shoulders shook again with a faster and lighter pattern.

Brittany shook and the sun sparked, tearing a bit of herself.

"Santana," Quinn said. She turned away from Rachel and Brittany to look at the ghost of her friend. Santana lost color and substance, but she drew blood with her claws. She was as real and dangerous as the desert wind. "Brittany, now."

"The scary thing," Santana whispered, her voice echoing though the full, frosty hallway, "The really terrifying thing about your fuck up? I'm not the strongest. I will never come close to their powers." She growled and barked at his ear. The jock tried to pull away, but the claw on his cheek held him in place. "I will never be like them."

"Now," Quinn said, three of her tails snapping.

She growled once more and pushed off. A gasp of wind, and Santana tricked the world into thinking that she had never really left Brittany's side. That she never turned into nothingness. Never gave into her anger. No longer blue and with wisps of a translucent nothingness, Santana hugged Brittany's waist and rested her face on her back.

The blonde did not change.

"Rachel, you too," Quinn said, then added, "if it is okay." She stepped over to Azimio, and the ice shattered with each step only to reform behind her. He was pale, and his cheek bones were so much more prominent, all of his bones were. Frost stretched up his legs and crawled over his shoes and jeans.

A content sigh, and the labored breathing slowed down. The sun relaxed its warmth. Not by much, but enough.

"I gave one order over break," Quinn took another step to Azimio. His arms gave out as he tried to push away from her. He could not go further than the wall behind him, and the ice granted no traction. "One for this new year, new semester."

"It was just a prank, you, you know?" He said. "Honestly, I just followed orders-"

"Do not touch her," Quinn paused and flicked her slushied hand at him. The red ice shattered and whistled through the air. Azimio turned away and closed his eyes. But the shards never reached him. They hung in the air, just before him. She smiled at the wet stain on his jeans. "That is what I said."

Quinn shut her hand, and the shards paused on his face and pierced his skin. Her tails flickered behind her, and her magic glowed bright. "Never touch her."

"Who are you to order us?" A year thirteen said. Her ice cracked until the weight, steady snaps until they stood behind her. "This grand experiment is finally over, and this bullshit excuse of a power-play proves nothing."

Maggie Dawlson pushed her way to the middle of the hallway, leaving the small group of thirteen years watching the spectacle. The years ten and nine who had not escaped yet hugged the walls and lockers away from them. The petite fake-blonde once held the title of Head Cheerio, until Quinn took it from her, without an ounce of magic. While her power was largely symbolic, enforced by the belief in the position and the power of Sue, and for a year, no one had questioned her. There was power within the position, and she stole it within a day from Dawlson with six words and broke her. Dawlson ran from the room, cursing her as Sue and the rest of the squad did nothing. She never did forgive her for it and quit the squad. Even if she said it was due to her obligations as a year thirteen to her courses, everyone knew the truth.

Quinn never found a reason in herself to care.

Since the beginning of the year, the power struggle returned to the school. As a year nine, even in revered position of power, people expected her to be worthy of that political power, expected her to possess magical power equal to it. While intelligence held up to the high requirements, Quinn did not show any sign of magic worth emulating or fearing. Her control waned, and the power slipped away. No matter what she did or said, if only first shown by the last of follows in the harassment of Rachel Berry, the process begun. No one spoke of it, no one dared to. But Dawlson knew. Her new little clique knew, and they were pushing to take over from the Cheerios, from her.

Dawlson blinked and snapped. A flash of heat, and the ice and frost in the hallway was gone. Steam rose from the ground, and Quinn caught her opal as it shrunk down. She would have to replace the setting and her necklace. A small price to pay. She turned away from the ex-Cheerio.

"I'm not done talking to you, Blondie. You fucking freak. You turn around right now. I am talking to you."

"Do you honestly think I care what you are saying?" Quinn smiled as Brittany sighed heavily into Rachel's hair, puffing it into the air. Rachel relaxed into the embrace, nuzzling her face against her neck, and Brittany almost copied her. Except she stared at Dawlson. "Do you honestly believe your display matters?"

The eleventh commandment ruled McKinley. If Quinn had never taken power, if she or Santana had never been part of the Cheerios at all, the eleventh commandment would have existed and bent every single student under its will. Thou shall not make Brittany S. Pierce cry or hurt her in any way. Majority of the students failed to understand why, but after a few simple (true) rumors, they followed it. Despite that they were not friends, Quinn ensured it.

The foolish believed it had to do with Brittany being simple and therefore had to be protected. Santana and Quinn enforced the rule to keep everyone else safe. She never understood it, but her second in command told her, not asked, told her, the second day of practice how it would be. She followed without question. The remnants of her friendship manifesting themselves.

Now, if they did nothing, that commandment would shatter, and whatever control Brittany had over the storm within her would escape. Dawlson did not matter. Only Brittany. Only Santana. Only Rachel.

"You think we don't know what you are? What that stupid orb was?" Quinn turned around and held her opal to her collar.

"The eleventh commandment," Quinn said. "You know exactly what-"

Dawlson blinked again, another wave, and the heat rose higher. The crowd escaped, leaving just Dawlson's clique and the Unholy Trinity with Rachel. "That's what it'll take, right? To hold that, then you'd finally be the bitch we'd all knew you were."

"If you dared," Quinn said, swallowing. "The eleventh commandment, Dawlson, Brittany would-"

"Like those two even fucking matter. Like she fucking matters. It ends now," Dawlson said and grinned. The world shimmered under the heat off the tiles. Quinn squeezed her opal and stepped back. "No, I think that I could just tear it from you dainty little hands."

She had nothing left. In her hand, the lustrous and bright gem barely shone any more, her magic exhausted. Two weeks of owning it again, two weeks in her possession to let time repair what her father stole from her, it was not enough. The show and shock was what she could do, even then her heart pounded and raced as she walked, the energy coursing through her. She acted under instinct; whatever happened in those few minutes the electric tingle from it no longer danced along her hand.

"Stay away from her," Rachel said. She ran her hand down Quinn's spine and stepped around her. She shivered, standing still as her wizard stood right in front of her.

"The tranny steps forward," Dawlson said. Shock and hurt shook the bond. "So brave for a small little thing."

"Don't you dare," Rachel replied.

"Your father's not here." She stepped forward, the pressure increasing. "I'm not afraid of him. My Ma's not afraid of him."

"What's going on here?" Professor Schuester asked, nearly tripping as he ran down the stairs. The heat and pressure dissipated, and Quinn held up Rachel as she fell back as the magic disappeared. "Year tens and nines practically running up the stairs about some duel happening in the hallway." He paused right next to Dawlson, the grimace and anger dissolving away, leaving a sweet smile that Quinn had never mastered.

"Quinn just attacked Azimio out of nowhere, throwing a slushie on him, and-"

"liar!" Rachel shouted, stepping out Quinn's arms. "He slushied me and-"

"Then where's the slushie?" She said, then gasped.

Rachel could not tell the truth, or they would be trouble for using magic in halls, but neither could Dawlson admit it, without showing that she did too. True, she could try to argue that the frost just disappeared, but Rachel would demand that her father come in and well, that she was not afraid of Mr. L Berry was a lie. Quinn had yet to figure out why. It was infuriating.

Quinn looked up from Rachel and smiled at Professor Schue. "Hello professor." The man was lanky, awkward, and dull. She had the unfortunate experience in attending one of his ancient languages courses year nine, and while the subject was important, to a degree, she had passed with an O solely on the laurels of her own hard work and self-study. Brittany passed because she drew a bunny on the scantron.

Professor Schue also had the worst addiction to sweater vests that Quinn had ever seen.

"Quinn, is this true?"

"Is what true?"

"That you slushied Azimio?"

"The time has come, I suppose."

"Excuse me."

"The school is finally decide to punish for slushing." Quinn smirked and stepped around her wizard. Brittany sighed and she felt the heat wind down on their bond. "You, of all people, finally step forward, even though I can count four times that you walked back a student who had just received one." Rachel and she ignored that it was Rachel to whom she was referring on half of those occasions.

"Ms. Fabray, that is-"

"I fail to see what this moment has different, other than an accusation from a year thirteen this time, than any of those? Why should we be punished when countless others have gotten away with this? And do not say that it is from you catching us in the act, since that is a blatant lie." She raised an eyebrow. Professor Schue stared blankly back at her. "If that is all, Professor, the bell for homeroom should be ringing shortly."

"Yes, of course," He shook her head briefly, then stared around with his empty gaze. "Everyone to class now." All his order received was the shuffling of feet and murmurs of disagreement, but the hallway emptied out.

Professor Schue at least attempted to act professional, staying until the room emptied out. For the most part. Rachel and her familiars stood still, and Quinn did not pull her gaze from Dawlson's. The year thirteens did not move either. "That includes you, Ms. Dawlson, and your friends. Ms. Fabray, I dobut Professor Sue would appreciate her Cheerios being late. Ms. Berry stay."

"No." Rachel said. "They stay. The Cheerios I mean."

"Ms. Berry, that is-"

"They are required to either stay in my presence or in someone's who I explicitly give them to."

"I don't under-"

"As I am sure that my father sent all the appropriate paper work required," Rachel replied, "then you should have seen the changes in schedule required, as well as the reason. If not, that is your fault. Either way, they stay."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about it, your changes to your schedule, I mean," Professor Schue said. "I don't think that you belong in my course, no matter what reason. It's important that-"

"He said run along, Bottle-Bitch," Santana spoke up from behind Brittany. "So get."

"Language, Santana/Ms. Lopez," Rachel and Professor Schue reprimanded her. The former was the only one that mattered. The heat burst slightly, to a warmth of a hearth, but died down just as quickly, while the wind spun around its bond.

"Whatevs."

"But she is right, Ms. Dawlson."

"Fine whatever," Dawlson replied, glared at Quinn, then turned and stomped away her clique, scurrying behind her.

When the year thirteens skulked out of the hallway, she relaxed her stance and her grip, the opal wet and sticky in her palm.

"Professor Schuester, if there is any real issues with my schedule, any of ours, then that is something we'll have to deal with later. First bell is soon, so if it is okay." A growl came from behind them, and Quinn stood perfectly still, ignoring Brittany's antics. "Thank you." Rachel grabbed Quinn's hand, and pulled her toward her locker, immediately stripping her of the winter coat and filling her arms with the books for the morning portion. Once she decided that everything was in order, her wizard tightened her grip on Brittany's leash and picked up Quinn's hand again, then drug them to their homeroom. Santana growled behind them and followed.

It was not the worst morning she had at school, but far from the worst. Probably the only thing that would case issues would be the antagonistic behavior from Dawlson, but if things were improving as much as they were, then it would not be a real problem. Year twelves through fourteen tended to stay in their own wing, and as far as possible away from the beginning wizards, just out of principle. So unless Dawlson specifically sought her out like today.

So things were looking up, at least. That was nice. With her father out of the picture, maybe she could at least enjoy a normal year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So life is an ass sometimes. Seriously, stupid actuary tests, stupid studying. Stupid stupid things.
> 
> I've had this completed for a while, it's just sat on my computer, and I have no idea why I haven't posted this, but at least it's done.
> 
> I love to see all the new followers and favorites, so thank you all for the responses. I'd love to hear from any of you, so please, read and review, feedback is awesome and is like crack, in that it makes me hyper and I end up in strange places when I use it. Nevermind.
> 
> I watched the 100th episode and I feel that it is my duty as a fanfiction writer to comment on it:
> 
> 1). The whole Quick thing was rushed and forced, and despite my desire for Faberry in canon, should have been the most natural progression of a relationship if the writers had any idea concerning character development. It's not like they didn't have characters who completely did 180 in two years and giving up on all of their ideas and beliefs simply for a boy(re* Rachel and Finn).
> 
> 2) Brittany and Santana! So awesome
> 
> 3) Toxic was hot as fuck, Valerie was amazing, and Keep holding On was spot on emotional. So awesome. Much Good.
> 
> The rest of it doesn't really matter. Because those were the things that happened that were important. That's it. No one can say otherwise. Ever.
> 
> I sadly do not own Glee. If I did, we could have had at least some more fun with characters, and bring people like Mike Chang into the spot light. So many wasted characters on the Finchel Show.
> 
> As always, please read and review. I love to hear back from, especially if I'm doing something wrong/doesn't make sense.
> 
> Because I can,
> 
> SurrealSteamPuckk(WeOffendedShadows)


	4. Practice til Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fucking academy blew monkey shit-chunks. With Sue forcing them into her stupid dueling course, even though Santana had no real intention of actually fighting fair, it’d be reasonable to let them out of the Cheerios. But bitch had to have it both ways. Meaning double practices at least three times a week. More if she was being a bitch. Which meant always. Fucking bull-shit.

The fucking academy blew monkey shit-chunks. With Sue forcing them into her stupid dueling course, even though Santana had no real intention of actually fighting fair, it’d be reasonable to let them out of the Cheerios. But bitch had to have it both ways. Meaning double practices at least three times a week. More if she was being a bitch. Which meant always. Fucking bull-shit.

At least she had her girls and her wizard. How they’d made things better didn’t make sense, but they did. The school day was mostly tedious and boring as fuck. Granted, it was kinda fun to have B and Q in all of her courses, finally, and Tink was rather awesome in Runes and Maths, even if she was a know-it-all/teacher’s pet. Santana was the only one behind in those, and the fact that the professor spoke in ancient Hebrew with a French accent didn’t help the situation. 

Most of the classes ended with no real issues, even though Q looked like she’d pass out halfway through third period, and Brittany curled up on the floor next to Tink any time she could. Which drew a lot of attention. Then the questions began. Then people noticed the collars, and rumors and shit followed. It wasn’t like they were hiding it, but fuck, people talking made it more difficult. They noticed the touching, the hugging, the being-near-each-other and asked even more questions. It wasn’t her fault. Stupid bond. Really. Had nothing to do with the fact that Rachel felt soft, smelled sweet, and Jesus fucking Christ, the stupid fucking bond. 

The professors knew the truth, at least she figured they did, and pretty much let them get away with whatever seating arrangement they wanted in the back of the room, including Brittany kneeling against one of them and hugging one of their knees to her chest. For most of the day, she shook and shivered, dealing with whatever she tried to take into herself to protect Rachel. Brittany was quiet, calm, and as small as she could be, and they let her, at least until dumb raised its head again at the academy. 

The most direct time was with some of the Varsity jocks in splatter ball. Specifically, Puck made some stupid joke bout them, involving the kinky nature of the collars and leashes (Santana had to ignore that she really, really wanted it to be true). She felt the sharp sting from the bond, and she nearly lost it, barely stopping from tricking, well, anything and shouted at him in her native tongue. Quinn grabbed hold her while Rachel struggled to keep Brittany back using her leash with both hands. The blonde’s bond with her flared warm again, but not searing like before, not a palm on the coal-lit fire.

Apparently, word bout Azimio (fucker got off easy with some scratches) and his fuck up didn’t spread like it should have. Note to self: fix said issue. 

Once Puck stopped running his mouth and the rest of jocks stepped back and Santana listened to Rachel’s commands, Quinn let her go, walked up to the jock, and stood on her toes to whisper to him. He ran away, his buddies following. Brittany calmed down, though held onto Rachel to keep standing. It wasn’t the last comment, but at least the last one to their faces. Puck, of all people, just smiled at Rachel and nodded at them, no other words, when he pasted them again. 

The most important part: Quinn stepping up and laying down the law. Again. Say whatever about Lucille fucking Quinn Fabray. A bitch, cold, manipulative, arrogant. Fine, whatev. She was hot. Like hotter than should be possible. So much so it wasn’t fair sometimes. Well, not that it was not fair, but more that she’d never really noticed it. Quinn knew she was attractive and could draw the attention of any fucking guy in the school. She never realized how hot she was, because she was being too much of a stuck up bitch by order of her worthless sperm donor. 

Quinn never saw that gentle smile she gave to Brittany when she had one of her bad days, even before she knew a bit more. Britts didn’t talk much about why she was the way she was, but Q never judged and always was there for her, at least at school. Quinn never saw the way she looked sometimes at Santana, proud and excited when she accomplished whatever stupid gymnastic shit that was crazy and hard as fuck Sue gave them. She never saw how she looked at Rachel without anyone else around, a soft sadness that came from hurting something without understanding why it mattered that it was important to hurt them, even if it hurt herself in the end. 

At least, that’s what Santana told herself, when her lady bits quivered at the thought of her. In the collar, over her, smirking, speaking. Stupid fucking bond. It didn’t help with Quinn having had one of the best bodies(seriously, those hips and that ass) at the academy, next to hers and Rachel’s, so it was inevitable to want her. Now at least, she had a shot. Go her. 

First day back, and things sucked monkey-balls. At least they were able to get home, though it took fucking forever, cause the Cheerleading Nazi demanded a practice just cause. Rachel wasn’t with them, stupid dancing and singing lessons, making things even worse. Brittany would have joined for the former, but she was barely stand up at the end school and passed out during practice on the bleachers. Sleep and sugary cereal would be the best thing for her now. Quinn struggled too, but she refused to give into the exhaustion, even participating in the training sessions from hell for both dueling and Cheerio. 

Hiram picked them up, and no one spoke the drive home, similar to the morning. Just for different reasons. At least they’d finally get to rest. There’d be talking eventually, over the pseudo-fight and subsequent asskicking, the changes in schedule, the leashes and whatnot, and that’d sucked. Why did people have to talk about things? Couldn’t they just let them fucking be? It’s not like they got in trouble or anything. Why would they; they’re Cheerios and therefore shouldn’t be touched. Even if fucking Schue didn’t realize that. Fuck him. 

Hiram took their coats and bags, then sent them up to shower and relax. Brittany stripped her cheerio shirt as she walked up the stairs, and Quinn ruined it by making her keep her pants on. A shower sounded wonderful, but as sore and tired as she was, it was worse for her blondes. Between the stress that her magic put on her body for Brittany, and the sheer lack of using her magic for Quinn then exploding in hotness and epicness, Santana would have to suffer the wait for hot water. Maybe a cold shower would do her some good, fucking bond blocking her from getting off. That was the only possibility. Really. 

Quinn pushed Brittany into the en suite, then collapsed on the bed. “I doubt Tink’d want you stinking up her bed,” Santana said, pulling her own shirt off. 

“Shut it,” Quinn replied, and rolled over to her back. “Why are you-“

“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before, Q.” She stepped out of her sweats, leaving her in black panties and sports bra. “And not like you don’t want it.”

“Of course, that is what is on my mind.” She covered her eyes and turned away, careful of her left hip. “Ignoring the fact that school was exhausting, I revealed my nature to the one person who would easily take advantage of it just out of spite, Brittany is in pain, and Rachel is worried. No, your sexy body is exactly the thoughts I am currently experiencing.”

“Damn straight. I mean, who wouldn’t want this.” Santana crawled over to her on the bed and pushed her as gentle as she could onto her back. Quinn tried to move away, but she straddled her caps legs, pinning her in place. “Please, I know you barely took your eyes off of me.”

“Should not have stripped down to,” Quinn kept her eyes closed but waved at where she expected Santana’s chest to be. She leaned down into the hand and grabbed it, pulling it to her sternum. Her caps barely pulled away, her thumb and pinky getting caught on her sports bra. “During practice. It was inappropriate.” 

“I was sweaty and the shirt was annoying me. No one else complained. Why would they? They want to be this hot.” Santana took her other hand and put it on her hip, her thumb just above her panty-line. Another token fight. Sweet. “You didn’t have an issue then. Course, I wasn’t straddling your fine hips, my wet lady bits just a piece of cloth away. Why-”

“No, please, can we not-“ Quinn shook her head and looked away, her hand sliding down. Her fingers caught her bra for a moment, and her hand quaked before continuing down her stomach to her hip. Santana shivered, and ground down as light as she could to at least get some pressure on her.

“Then again, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you, even in that drab shirt and pants. Seriously Q, you move way too well for someone who still has a stick up her ass.”

“Santana, please-“

“I’d be more than happy to remove it from you. Rachel too, whenever that may be.”

“I do not want to talk about sex with you.” Quinn tried to push her away, but squeezed Santana’s hips instead.

“Fine, no more sex talk. What about kissing? I really, really wanted to kiss you,” she said. Her caps turned back to her, opening her eyes. “Like, all day. Especially now.”

“Santana,” she replied.

“Seriously, like fuck, Q, you have no idea.” Santana let go of her hands, and Quinn didn’t pull away. She leaned down, supporting her weight with one arm to keep as much off of her as possible, and cupped Quinn’s cheek. “Watching you go off on Azimio, then contain and control Puck? Fucking, I- damn this bond.”

“You cannot always blame it.”

Her face warmed up, and the bond from Brittany shook lightly, sweetly. “Fuck that I can, it’s making me share and-“

“But it is all you,” Quinn said. “Is it not?”

“Yeah, but- can I?” 

“You are changing the subject.” Quinn rubbed her thumbs on her hips, and Santana mimicked the motion on her cheek. She gave a soft smile, at least looking at her. 

“And you’re avoiding the question. So yes? That’s a yes, right?”

“I do not want to disappoint you,” Quinn turned away, pulled away. Her thumbs stopped. 

“Q, it’s you, why-“

“I do not, I mean, I was not like you and Brittany, not that it was bad, what you two did, it was your life and-“

“Sweetie,” Santana said. She dismounted her, pushed on her shoulders, and held her place, only to curl into her right side, despite the sweaty t-shirt she still wore. Quinn needed to remove it immediately. “What crazy are you talking about?”

“I have seen you.”

“Well, it’s not like I or B are shy.”

“Brittany or I.”

“Whatevs, it’s not like we’re known for discretion. So what’s the big deal?” She wrapped an arm around Quinn’s waist and pulled her as close as possible. 

“I, just never, really, it is not-“ Santana pushed herself up, rubbing against Quinn as she did so, until she was right by her face. “Santana, I have not-“

“Never been kissed?” Quinn turned into her, throwing an arm around her and pushed her face into her neck. “Seriously? You? Never? What about those year elevens and twelves at Puck’s party? The ones hounding you? Three of them said, I could have sworn-“

“It was not acceptable behavior by my father’s standards, even if attending was mandatory. He said I had to show my face, be part of them, but I could not break my purity.”

“But they-“

“They lied, because it was better than the truth that the head cheerleader turned them down. Better than the fact that they did nothing for me.”

“And me? Do I?”

Quinn didn’t say anything. 

“Britt? Tink? Do they?”

She shrugged and pressed her face in Santana’s cleavage. Quinn breathed in deep, and Santana giggled. Her caps didn’t move from her position. 

“Sweetie,” Santana said, “words would be awesome, cause I can’t read your mind. Though I might be able to, cause I’ve got all these pervy thoughts, and it’d be awesome if they were yours, but they could be mine, I mean, unless you like a riding crop, cause I would-“

“Yes, fine, just stop,” Quinn replied into her. “Just, can you-“

“So can I?” 

“Santana please, I would really like-“ 

Santana brushed her hair, smiling as she closed her eyes at the touch. “Quinn, remember what I told you, a week ago.” She nodded. “Are you uncomfortable? Is this, really think about it, kay, is it making you uncomfortable? Just tell me if you are.”

“No, this is nice.” The bond with Brittany shivered again, and Rachel’s danced vibrantly. Santana smiled into Quinn’s hair. “I, I do not want to disappoint you.”

“Quinn,” Brittany said. Santana rolled with Quinn to look at the blonde in the bathroom doorway, a towel wrapped around her. “You’d never, ever, ever, ever, ever-“

“You can’t, as long as you’re with us, you can’t,” Santana said. She squeezed her and shifted her, getting comfortable. Quinn yelped, more in surprised than in pain, hopefully, but Santana pulled her even closer, until she was flush against her. “So can I?”

“You are like a puppy, constantly begging.” Quinn smiled into her chest. 

“Just answer it, please,” Santana continued. “I’m not gonna stop until I get an answer.”

“Why?”

“Cause.”

“Santana, that does not-“ Brittany sat on the bed, dipping the bed and them into her. 

“Quinn, what do you want?” 

“I, I am not sure. But, this, I, I think I like.”

“Thinking is good,” Brittany said.

“So, is that a yes Q?”

“Don’t push her, Sannie.”

“Fine, whatevs, I’m just-“

“You know you could take care of that by yourself, right? You don’t need her, Tana.” 

“Please, like that’s any fun. It’s better with two people, or more,” Santana replied. “Speaking of, maybe we could-“

“No, Santana, whatever you are about to ask, I am going to say no, not now.”

“But not never? Sweet.” She wiggled underneath her. 

“You are such a puppy,” Quinn said.

“Tink called me that, too,” Santana smirked. 

“Can you let go of me, please, I would like to shower now.” Quinn pushed away, though, Santana only let her slide down her. She followed the motion, smiling as her caps blushed and continued to rub herself against her even when she got out of Santana’s arms. “Stay.” Quinn pushed off of her, walked over to the door, and picked up a small pile of cloths. 

Despite Rachel’s desire and accomplishment to be anal retentive, she’d never be able to beat Quinn’s nutured nature. She placed the pile by the door prior to them leaving school, including everything she needed to change into after practice. The dresser Leroy got them had everything in a perfect, specific order for the week, along with various “surprise” outfits in case whatever situation called for it. Everything was labeled. Difference between Rachel and Q was that Q didn’t have to try to do it; the damn sperm donor made sure order was the only option. She made it seem as if it was the only way of doing it. Damn neat freak. If the reason why she was like that wasn’t so horrible, then it’d be pretty awesome. And funny. 

The door closed, and the two girls remained still, Santana staring up at the ceiling and Brittany at the door. She started to trace a hand down her side, starting just below her tits and then dragged it along her abs, but paused when the shower turned on, just above her boyshirts. She dropped her hand to her side and sat up, looking at Brittany. “Is it just me, or is she even hotter when she orders us?”

“Orders you,” Brittany replied. She dropped her towel and pulled on pajama bottoms from Rachel’s drawers. “It’s hot when she orders you.”

“Shut it,” Santana flopped back down. “You okay?”

“Think Chel would let me nap?” Brittany stole one of Quinn’s abnormally large sweaters from the laundry bin and walked over. She fell next to her, bouncing, though Santana didn’t move. Fucking awesome bed. Could do so much on it. Should do so much on it. 

“Why wouldn’t she? You still hurting? I can give you a massage.” Maybe it’d turn into something more. They’d both like that. 

“No.” Brittany settled down on Santana’s shoulder and threw an arm over her. She rested her head on her shoulder and sighed onto her breasts, her breath tickling her. Just a few more inches and she’d be on them. Why wasn’t she on them? 

“I was worried all day,” Santana continued. “You never spoke up bout it, and you weren’t flinching or anything, but-“

“I didn’t.” Brittany kissed her collar bone. Santana sucked in a breath and held it. She didn’t move, but neither did Britt. “All day, I mean. I didn’t hurt. Only just after.”

“Really, B?” 

Brittany nodded. “That’s, that’s-“

“I know right?” Brittany continued. “I was still tired, am really tired, but still, I can feel it lingering. It’s closer, but not so enveloping. It’s weird. When Chel got hit, I was just so mad, and I knew it was coming. I felt it coming. Somewhere within me, I told myself and well, I couldn’t do anything about it. I couldn’t protect her. But it could. Maybe if I just let a bit more out-“

“No,” Santana said. “Never, it’s not worth it. Seriously B, even if it didn’t hurt now, it’ll later, or this will happen or something. Something worse. The fuckers hurt you, damn fucking damn it.” She wiped her face and pressed her nose against the top of Brittany’s head. “It’s not right. Fuck them for doing this.” She gasped, tried to push her face through Brittany, pulled her as close as possible until she lied on her, pressing her into the bed. 

“Santana, no, don’t cry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, sweetie, no.” Her voice cracked and wobbled, and she leaned up to hide in the crook of Brittany’s neck. “Fuck them with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.”

She giggled and wrapped her arms under her head. “It’ll be fine. I’m fine. I won’t, okay. You don’t need to worry, kay?”

“I always worry bout you,” Santana muttered into her shoulder. “Always. It’s my job.”

“Now it’s Chel’s, so you relax and just cuddle.”

“Fine, whatevs. You win.” Santana kissed her exposed neck. “How about we-“

“No,” Brittany said. Santana leaned back and pushed out her bottom lip. “Don’t give me that look. You know why. And you can do that by yourself.” She didn’t know why, and she couldn’t by herself, for some stupid fucking reason.

“It’s not the same,” Santana sighed and pushed Brittany away, until the blonde slide off of her. It fucking wasn’t the same. 

She had been around. She slept with half of the year nines the previous year, a quarter of the year tens and a handful of the elevens. There was a power in it; a power of the boys she took to their bed, made them believe they were special, and had her way with them. Some part of her enjoyed it physically, though mostly she found staring down at them as she rode them for sometimes the shortest ride in her life, in the brief moment they cum, she owned them. At school, out and about, at a party. She knew it, and they did too. It never went away, even if it meant nothing. Except what was expected of her as the second in command of the cheerios. So she played her part, like everyone else. 

But with Brittany, with her the moments were tender and long and so soft. She looked forward to whenever her blonde lover wanted to spend time with her, to stay over and just be with her. It was the nights they spent in bed, kissing, just kissing of all things, until morning where’d they wouldn’t part, not even for a shower. It was the glances they gave each other, the quickies in the janitor closets when they couldn’t wait any more. It was the morning coffee and hugs; the sweet, quick kisses stolen in the hallways; and the locked pinkies wherever they walked. Santana could talk to her, and she to her. The sex was pretty awesome too. Never could forget that.

Everything changed with Rachel and Quinn, at least, she thought it would. But somehow, nothing really did. Well, it did, but she’d didn’t want to think that that it did. 

The cuddle times increased, and she could pull any of them close as often as she wanted. No one ever complained, except Quinn tended to yelp in surprise half the time, but it was adorable and therefore acceptable. The rest of the touches and kisses just stopped. And it was so not fair.

The shower stopped, and Brittany returned to getting dressed, pulling her hair into a pony tail. Santana closed her eyes; damn day was something horrible, and the only thing that could have made it better was- 

Quinn threaded fingers through her hair and pulled Santana up until her lips pressed against hers, overlapping hers for a moment until she took her lower lip between hers. She opened her eyes; her caps’ were closed and fluttered for a moment. Quinn didn’t relax her grip; she pushed her back and followed her down to the bed, straddling her as she went. 

Santana relaxed into the touch; the smile on her face mimicked hers. She tried to grab her shoulders, wrapping her arms under her armpits, trying to hold herself up and maybe, just maybe, and pull her down with her, but Quinn sat straight up and dragged her with her. She sighed, and a smirk grew against her lips, then the hand in her hair tightened even more, yanking her back. Santana gasped, eyes popping open, and Quinn laughed as she kissed down her jaw to her neck. She blew against her skin, then started to suck, teeth scrapping ever moment or so when she took a breath and blew against the spot. Santana tried to grind up against her, but she was held steady in place, legs around her hips and head pulled back. She could only stare up, her neck bent at an awkward angle.

Kisses trailed back up the other side of her jaw and the grip on her hair loosened, fingers tickling down to the back of her neck. Her other hand gripped her ribs, just below her tits, sweaty and tense. Her heart pounded against her chest, and somewhere, behind a towel, layers of skin and muscle, another heart danced just as hard.

Quinn sighed against her lips and smiled into her once more. One final soft and sweet touch of her lips and she pulled away. Her hand slide down her back and the other withdrew from her side, until she sat on her hunches on Santana’s legs, looking anywhere but at her. 

She pulled her legs from underneath her and copied her stance. Santana leaned forward and pushed a strand of wet hair out of her face. “There’s that smile,” she said, and Quinn’s widen. “And red is adorable on your pale skin, blondie.” 

Quinn barked a laugh, but still refused to meet her eyes. She played with the towel, holding it up with one hand and the other twisted the bottom. 

“That, I don’t-“

“Sorry, it was so bad,” Quinn said. She bowed her head deeper. “After our talk, well, you begging, I thought I’d try. I guess I failed.”

“Fuck that,” Santana scouted closer. “Seriously caps, I, there aren’t words to describe how epic that shit was. Because my lower lady lips, they are-“

“I want one,” Brittany said, sitting right behind Quinn and wrapping an arm around her. “It’s my turn. So gimme.” 

“Thank you, both of you, but you are just being nice and-“

“If I thought you’d be ready, I’d show you just how fucking awesome that was, how much I’d love for that to continue, how much you’d love it if I, we, all of us, could make you feel,” Santana replied. She cupped her cheek and slowly raised it, until green eyes met hers. They were wet, but a smile tried to hide them. “We are doing that again. If not now, later. As often as I can, because-“

“No fair, it’s my turn,” Brittany said, and rested her head on Quinn’s shoulder. She shook her head and short blonde hair flapped in B’s face. “Tana had hers and I want to, too.”

“B’s really good at kissing,” Santana added. “She does this thing with-“

“I am going to get dressed. In the other room,” Quinn said, sliding out of Brittany’s arms and away from Santana. She darted inside the bathroom and picked up her pile of cloths, no longer neat and perfect. She almost was at the door when Santana finally found her voice. 

“Lucy?” She said. Quinn paused in place. “Thank you.”

“I, Santana, really, you humored me and-“ She stared at the ground and tucked another strand of her hair out of her face.

“Thank you,” Santana repeated. “For sharing your first kiss with me. It was great, really, sweetie. Don’t doubt yourself, kay? It was perfect.”

“If you say so,” Quinn replied and closed the door behind her.

“Fuck she’s gonna kill me when she’s ready,” Santana said. “Seriously, Britts, that was-“

“Hot, so so hot,” she said. Brittany slapped her bare legs. “Go, shower, maybe that’ll give you some more material to finally relax.”

“Hopefully, because when she’s ready,” Santana stood up, stretching. Her spine popped in a few places, and she sighed as she relaxed onto her soles. “When she’s fucking willing and wanting? I doubt I’m gonna walk for a day, at min.”

“None of us will,” Brittany said. “Especially not Chel.”

“Chel?”

“I like it better than Rachie, I’ve decided. You’ve got Tink, I want Chel. Quinn will need one eventually, but she doesn’t like informal anything.”

“Cool.” It didn’t make sense, but it was always better just to go along with her. 

“Go, shower, get off, cause Quinn’s gonna make us do hw when she’s done,” Brittany turned her around and slapped her ass. Santana laughed and let herself be pushed towards the en suite. 

“Fine, fine,” she replied. “I’m going.” 

Hopefully, B was right and she could finally get off, because this blue lips situation was annoying. Maybe Q’s forwardness would finally give her a tipping point. 

Because she was gonna cut a bitch at school if it didn’t happen soon. Maybe Tink could point her in a direction of some asshole to at least vent the energy. That’d be awesome. Not as good as cumming, but close enough.

!-!-!-!-!-!

Leroy Berry stepped into a house of laughter and joy. For a long time, he thought he’d never hear it: his star’s true laughter specifically, but the sound of the four girls, together and happy, was true music. True magic.

Rachel must have left dance as soon as it was over; her car sat cold in the drive. There were more important things than extra practice it seemed. A bark of laughter, a groan of disappointment, and a chorus of giggles traveled up the stairs and hung around him, spinning tunes he had missed so much. Lyrics he hadn’t heard in years.

He hung up his coat, placed his shoes in their spot, and dropped his bag onto his chair in the living room. He found his husband in kitchen, sliding in some music no one ever really heard as he worked the stove and a cutting board with a wave of his hand.

Hiram worked in an alchemy lab at the local hospital. He made and stocked, along with two others, the stores of various medicines that required to be made on the spot or had limited shelf-lives, as well as slowly worked on his own concoctions to further his field. The art of cooking and alchemy were more similar than people realized, he said, but that didn’t mean they always had great meals. Leroy always figured it was a preemptive apology for his experimentations. 

But he was great at his job, loved it, and the only reason why he left as early as he did most nights was so their star wouldn’t be home alone, certainly not to continue how she left at school. 

But a week had changed everything, and he couldn’t be happier with the situation. Three girls had fallen into his daughter’s lap, and she took to them like a gryphon to the air. There was a brief rough patch, and given the nature of intelligent familiars, he doubted that it would always be sunshine and rainbows, but for the moment, there were no issues. 

Well, nothing he, or Star, couldn’t handle at the moment.

Despite his extensive training and knowledge, he had no idea what was wrong with Brittany. Even if the girl danced back and forth between a genius and a fool, he couldn’t determine just what caused the fracture of psyche. The first morning after she joined their home, he noticed the anguish and weariness, but said nothing. He couldn’t. Rachel saw to issue without a word and took to Brittany’s needs without thought. She helped all of their needs, whatever they were.

Santana’s raw emotions, volatile and intense, flickered in and out, as well as the energy she had throughout the day. While he would have sought immediate care for the inconsistent mindset and magic of the girl, his daughter just supported her. She solidified the shaky nature, giving a base for affection that she needed and the structure she craved. 

Things were worse than Quinn would ever say, than she probably could admit to herself. Even if it wasn’t physical like she swore it wasn’t. Leroy wouldn’t push, not until Rachel said it was okay, until she was unable to help her as much as she had. The week fluctuated between easy peace and cold warfare between the headstrong girls, but Star gave and held strong when needed, without ever hurting Quinn. 

The three girls, in turn, brought out the joyous and excited daughter he had before middle school. While they may have been the cause of it, at least Leroy knew the reason, though it’d never excuse it. If Rachel could forgive them, then he could, too, he figured. Didn’t mean he’d forget it. 

Leroy stepped over to his husband and wrapped his arms around his waist. “Work good,” he asked.

Hiram covered his hands. “Yeah, an easy day. But you know that already, don’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Of course you don’t. You never do.” Hiram leaned back and kissed his kiss. “Dinner will be ready in a few.”

“Is this gonna be another surprise meal?”

“For the last time, there was nothing wrong with the fish.”

“Except everything. Really Hiram, I love you, but you have to promise you’re gonna stop trying to poison me. And think of the girls. Rachel may have your cast iron stomach, but I seriously doubt the rest of them will be able to survive.”

“You’ll enjoy it, I promise,” Hiram replied.

“Famous last words.”

“Go get changed, and make sure Rachel hasn’t killed Santana yet.”

“Why’d she kill her?”

Hiram shrugged and twirled a finger in the air. The metal spoon in the sauce pan drifted lazily around the edges. “Apparently, she’s cheating at whatever game their playing and Rachel is demanding she stop whatever she is doing that making it so she always wins. Don’t ask me, I have no idea what she’s rambling on about either.”

A shrieking and laughter escape from the basement. 

“So things are good?” 

Hiram turned around and smiled up at his husband. “Of course, better in fact. Rachel practically ran up the stairs to see the girls when she got home.”

“How are they doing?’

“Exhausted. Apparently, they’re been switched into the dueling course as well, so I picked up three zombies instead of cheerleaders”

“Dueling, them?” Leroy asked. “I mean, maybe Brittany, if she ever – really?”

“Hun, just cause the rest of us normal folk don’t have crazy magic vision doesn’t mean you get to judge them.”

“No, it’s not that, I mean,” Leroy said. His husband glared at him, and he stepped back against the island. “They don’t have the power, none of them, really. Well, maybe Brittany, but that’s a fluctuating –“

“Leroy.”

“Hiram, we created that course for a reason. I was on the committee that assigned Sylvester there. There are-“

“Leroy.” Hiram stepped forward and stood in front of him, glaring now. “You said it yourself, just before her break. Power isn’t everything.”

“What I meant was-“

“To encourage our daughter who is probably one of the weakest mages at the school. I am well aware of that. You were trying to brighten up her spirits after one of those horrid year twelves released the MQ levels for their year.”

“Right, then-‘

“Explain to me why, over the last year, you’ve increased the complexity of our wards then, why every few months or so, I have to deal with a massive spike in power and readjust just about every piece of equipment in my lab.”

Leroy looked away. “I am worried that-“

“After Christmas last year, when Rachel took her interest in runes and wards, you started. You showed her our runestone, talked to her about a few things, then simply said it was dangerous and let her go. What’s the first thing she did when she came home that next Friday?”

“It was one time and-“

“Our daughter has been sneaking in and out of the house, breaking into other places, just as a means of something else besides Broadway. You may not have given her explicit permission, but you have encouraged it.”

“Hiram, I’m sorry-“

“Lee, please,” Hiram wrapped his arms around his waist and rested his head on his chest. “You’re not sorry about any of it, of encouraging our daughter’s abilities, of ensuring she had some sort of power, even if it wasn’t straight magic. You’re not sorry that she’s gone out at night and gotten into lord knows what. Please, you’re not even sorry that she’s a cat burglar, which is going to come of no good.” Leroy laughed and pulled him even closer. “You were doing what was best for our daughter.”

“Yes.” 

“And I’ve said nothing,” Hiram continued. “I trusted you on this, and I’m asking you to trust me on the rest of the girls. No, right now, they may not have the power. But you know what Quinn is, and Santana is a lot smarter than anyone gives her credit for. If Sue put them in the course, then it was for a good reason. Okay?” 

Leroy nodded, though he wasn’t happy about it. 

He turned to the basement door, smirking as his daughter stomped up the stairs with her arms crossed. “Daddy!” she cried. “Santana’s cheating. Make her stop.”

“Lies, Mr. B,” Santana shouted, “all lies. Don’t listen to her.” 

“Daddy!” Rachel stomped and glared at her father. “Make her play fair.” 

“Star, it doesn’t work like that,” he smiled at her. Two arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back a bit. Leroy smiled as Brittany held his daughter close. 

“Chel, please don’t be mad. Tana doesn’t let me win either at the game,” Brittany said. She rested her head on top of hers, and Rachel relaxed into her. “She isn’t cheating.”

“But-“

“Chel, you’re not good at go-carts,” Brittany replied and giggled into her neck. “Like, really not good.”

“That isn’t-“ It was strange watching Star interact with friends. Honestly, it was strange to know she had friends. Since middle school, she had no one else, and now, after coming home and trying to hide the fact that school was hell for her at times, Rachel smiled and laughed again. 

“And you don’t like losing, so of course when you do, badly, mind you-“

“All three of you are ganging up on me-“

“If that were the case, we’d be rub-“

“Dinner’s almost ready girls,” Hiram said. Leroy hid his smile as Brittany kissed Rachel’s hair and stepped back. “Go wash up.”

“Yes, Dad,” Rachel said and darted away. Brittany smiled at him and skipped after his daughter. Quinn dragged a tired Santana up the stairs, a smile on her face, though she refused to meet his eyes. 

Four girls. Their family doubled in a matter of days, and like the previous week showed him, things wouldn’t always be perfect, not after the girls, all of them, came into their powers, but for the moment, it would be nice. They’d have to take the happiness when it came, like always. At least his daughter had stopped rambling about Broadway. Well, not stopped. But it was greatly reduced, and Star talked about her other interests besides music and dance. Though the Trinity seemed to enjoy bringing out that side more than anything, forcing her to step away from the hyper-focused and obsessed girl she was and be the star she should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back. HAHAHAHAHAHA! ::cough:: ::Cough:: ::hacking cough:: Stupid laugh – so it’s been a really, really long time since I’ve posted. A lot of things have happened, and this has been sitting in my folder for a while. I haven’t died. I’m still writing(kinda), but things have been difficult.
> 
> Around March, I went off my medication somewhat by choice (because I have to be like that and think I can handle it without it) and somewhat by financial reasons, and my depression has kinda taken over me. I’m fighting back now that I have a job and a method of distracting myself, but most days are really hard to do anything. But I am writing. I’m working. I’m existing. I’m still off my medication for financial reason (250 a month for two generic pills is not a fair price), so until I’m back on, things are going to be slow.
> 
> Rachel’s Pets will continue, I have issues with Dirty Paws that I’m trying to resolve, and Invisible is strange b/c writing sex scenes with four people is difficult. I have some castle fic I’m working on, along with an Avengers one. 
> 
> Chapter 5 is in the works, but I hope this sates some of what I’ve haven’t been doing. 
> 
> As always, I do not own Glee. If I did, we’d have some serious episodes and discussions about certain topics that they glossed over. Thank you to the many of you who have stayed, and I look forward to the many of the new readers I am sure this will find.
> 
> Because I can,  
> SurrealSteamPuckk (WeOffendedShadows)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three weeks. Three terrible weeks of school. Well, not terrible. But to quote Santana, “it fucking sucks.” Quinn did not normally swear, but in this case, it seemed like it was reasonable and appropriate it. The worst part, well, maybe best, was that it was isolated to school. A complete reversal from her time prior to adoption by Rachel. Since gaining sister-familiars. It was Brittany’s phrase, and it caught on a week after she started to use it in every opportunity she could.

Three weeks. Three terrible weeks of school. Well, not terrible. But to quote Santana, “it fucking sucks.” Quinn did not normally swear, but in this case, it seemed like it was reasonable and appropriate it. The worst part, well, maybe best, was that it was isolated to school. A complete reversal from her time prior to adoption by Rachel. Since gaining sister-familiars. It was Brittany’s phrase, and it caught on a week after she started to use it in every opportunity she could. 

Their relationships were still settling, and there were occasional fights between them, all of them. Rachel had been attempting to assert dominance, sometimes in subtle ways. Though being overt was her standard modis operandi. Including picking out clothing for Santana and her since they quit the Cheerios. Brittany was given a reprieve on that, since she pouted better than they did. 

Sue was not happy with them over the decision, but apparently, it was expected. The Cheerios prepared the students for the Dueling course. Between the tumbling, the jumping, and running, everything they did in school, they had to complete afterwards again. They lasted a week. Rachel was upset with how tired her pets were, telling with a very loud voice and hands on her hips, that she would not stand for exhausted and dead pets. She did not take them in to kill themselves out of some stupid loyalty to a program they did not need. 

Quinn told their professor, standing in front of her desk with Brittany and Santana behind her. She met Sue’s glare with her one, daring her to argue. With her magic growing each day, there was less of a reason to question just what she was capable of doing to anyone.

No one bothered them. Or at least, no one tried to question their relationship and power in the hallways. Year tens were in charge, and publicly it would stay that way. Noah Puckerman, after a few days of pouting that he no longer had a chance with Quinn, or Santana, or Brittany for that matter, became somewhat friendly in his own assholish manner. The splatterball player hovered around, and Santana, Brittany, and, surprisingly, Rachel enjoyed his crude sense of humor. Quinn could do without the pregnancy jokes. But she accepted that her wizard liked the strange boy for some reason, and therefore would not kill him on principle.

Maybe the best thing for Rachel was she had friends. Well, she always had friends, now they were not afraid to talk to her without fear of the Cheerios doing anything. Kurt Hummel was the first to step out of the crowd and start speaking to their wizard again, and Mercedes Jones, his equal in the gossip line, followed. Fake-stuttering (really, who was she fooling besides the teachers) Tina Chang inched her way in, and Puck dragged Michael Chang with them occasionally. Thus, the rune-cracking diva now had friends outside of her familiars who actually saw her outside of school.

Quinn found she did not like sharing, but as Rachel enjoyed being around more people, so she would tolerate. She would have to be content with glaring people over her wizard’s shoulders. They deserved it after all.

Rachel nuzzled her, pushing the arm around her up higher and her face into her chest. Quinn squirmed under her hot breath, but the wizard pulled her tighter and settled in against her in the car. She exhausted herself at dance practice today, trying to out dance Brittany. The result was a hyper blonde and a sleepy wizard, added with a cranky Latina, who was not allowed to join in. As the kitsune, Quinn felt it was important to have some since of decorum, so she sat back and watched as the pair used the poles left behind from the previous course. Santana bounced in her seat, clapping and cheering as the two girls “danced”, while Quinn stared straight ahead and tried very, very hard not to stare directly at them. With her mouth open. And drooling. There certainly was no drooling from her. 

“You’re not allowed to talk to him,” Rachel muttered against her arm. 

“Excuse me?” Quinn said.

“Finn. Stay away from him.”

“The past three weeks it is you who he has been hounding, if I remember correctly,” Quinn replied. Rachel snorted and wrapped an arm around her waist. 

“Just no.” 

“If you want him, he is yours.” Quinn said, swallowing heavily. Finn was a hulky awkward boy-child, and more often than not needed to be taught a wide variety of lessons, including how to chew with his mouth closed. 

“Pyramid-nips wants you, Q?” Santana asked from her other side. 

“I said no, and that’s final,” Rachel said. 

“Once again, he is yours, Rachel.”

“You can do so much better, Tink,” Santana said, elbowing her lightly. “Like, really, anyone. Fuck, even Israel would be better, but really, you-“

“Quinn, I’m not kidding,” Rachel continued. “No.”

“Why are we even having this discussion?” Quinn looked down at the not-sleeping Rachel smirking into her shirt. She received a squeeze and a nuzzle, but her wizard did not say anything. “I have no desire for him in any form.”

“Who’s Finn?” Mr. H Berry asked. 

“QB for the splatterball team, H,” Santana said. “All around general golden boy of the year tens and most of the school. Seriously, does anyone above us attend the school?” 

“Nope,” Brittany said, curling into a ball in the front seat. “Cause we’re awesome.” Her yawn stretched out the words and was quickly followed by the dulcet tones of a snore. Not like Rachel’s, tiny and sweet snore, but deep and full and, Lord, Brittany echoed.

“I mean it, Quinn.”

“Rachel, he approaches you,” Quinn replied. “Every time we’ve seen him in the hallways, he stares at you-“

“Tongue wagging like the dog he is,” Santana added, earning a snort from the ‘sleeping’ Brittany. 

“I fail to see how he is interested in me.”

“He asks about you,” Rachel said. “He keeps asking about you. What you’re doing. When you’re free. What you’re interested in. Things like that.”

“Why is he talking to you?”

“Because apparently, I’m your social keeper,” Rachel leaned back. 

“Rachel, you are making no sense, I am not interested in your-“ She swallowed and looked away. The idea that she would leave them for Finn, well not leave them, per sey, but more like divert her attention to the boy-golden retriever was disheartening in the least possibly way. Quinn did not dwell on the thoughts, she refused to. While they would forever be together as her pets, and Santana and Brittany had each other, she would be alone, and Rachel would find some boy who she wanted and would just leave her behind. Leave her alone. Again. 

Rachel pushed her arm away and climbed into Quinn’s lap, straddling her legs and cupping her face. “You listen well, Ms. Lucy Quinn Fabray,” she said. Santana relaxed against her shoulder and smiled up at their wizard. “You stay away from him.”

“I am not- Rachel I do not understand. Why is this important to you?” 

“I’m gonna have to butt in here, but what are you two going on about?” Mr. H Berry said. 

“Finn has been approaching us, well, Rachel specifically, and trying to stay away from Quinn at the same time,” Brittany said.

“Cause of some epic HBIC glare going on,” Santana added. Rachel groaned and pushed off of Quinn. She twisted herself away, leaning so their legs were barely touching, and crossed her arms. “What? It’s true.”

“Anyways, he’s been taking to Chel about freedom, and dads, and crazy lights watching over her, and-“

“He wants to know since you’re not staying with your dad any more if you’re single,” Rachel said. She kicked the seat in front of her. “He thinks now’s the time for him to become the leader you want him to be.” 

“Hey.” Brittany turned around and glared at their wizard. “Be nice.”

“Sorry.” She was not. Quinn shifted in her seat and looked away, trying to focus on something other than the pouting diva next to her. Most of the homes were dark, and the few street lights here and there barely lit the empty air. They were promised snow. The skies were supposed to open up and drifting clouds would float down and-

“Brittany, back seat now,” Mr. H. Berry said. He took the left sharply, and Rachel fell into her lap. Quinn gripped her shoulders and held them up as they leaned into Santana. 

“Hiram, what’s-“ 

Red and blue lights flashed down the street in front of one of the houses. In front of the Berry’s. 

Six squad cars. 

“Brittany, dear, now.” The car slowed, and Quinn tightened her arm around Rachel. Brittany crawled into the back with them, stretching across their legs and into Santana’s lap. She meowed even, and Santana scratched the back of her neck as she settled down. 

Between her and Rachel, Quinn was pinned, not that she minded, really, though it was certainly not the time to be thinking about the three girls on and or around her. In fact, it was probably for the best. That there were other things happening, not that her wizard was sitting on her again and this time, Quinn was not fully distracted by things.

Mr. H Berry parked three houses down from their home, but didn’t move. His hand hovered over the keys and mouthed some words of faith or power or something, but Quinn never understood it. “Stay here,” he said. “Stay in the car.”

“Dad, what’s, I don’t-“

“Girls? Keep her here, okay?” 

“Dad, why do I have to-“ Rachel leaned forward, but a pair of legs and two sets of arms held her back. 

“Star, I mean it, stay in the car.” MR. H Berry stepped out without another word, and the wards shot up around them. Rachel jumped in her lap from the spark, squirming around and trying to escape. 

“What’s going on?” Rachel asked. Quinn held her flush now. Her wizard was rather strong for a tiny girl. “Dad? Please- Quinn let me go.”

“No.”

“That is an order and-“

“Chill hobbs, ain’t nothing to get all crazed about. It’s just-“ Santana sat up straight and stared ahead. Brittany waved at the officers. Quinn was left to hold Rachel down.

Mr. H. Berry was standing in front of six officers, two of which were hovering their hands over their wands or batons or whatever the police used these days. The other four were hanging back. Quinn did not recognize any of them. There were more than six police cars around them, including a rather well maintained Ferrari, which would be strange for a-

Rachel dashed out of her arms and out the door before Quinn could unbuckle her seat belt. Brittany was right after. An officer had drawn his weapon and stepped forward to Mr. H Berry, and Rachel apparently was not going to have any of that. She was much faster than Quinn had ever given her credit for, wily too. Practically slid out of her grip without an effort. 

Not that she was trying to squeeze tight. That would be inappropriate, and she could not have that. 

“Santana,” Quinn snapped, tugging on her seatbelt. In the commotion of both Brittany and Rachel darting from the car, they tangled and or broke the seatbelt mechanism and she could not escape to go stop and or help them. Probably the former. 

Her second already had her cell out and was calling, hopefully, Mr. L Berry. While Mr. H was a full wizard in his own right, he was nowhere near the power level of Mr. L. Not many people were. 

Power had its own respect in Lima, in the world. The strongest lead them, for better or worse. Mostly for the better, but those who were not involved in the government and were still strong tended to be given free reign over their actions. Much like her father- 

The seatbelt shredded in her claws, the door opened, and Quinn slide out into frosty air, each step frozenly perfect, a chilly glare on her face. Her tails flicked behind her, but her pendant stilled beneath her sweater, cold on her skin. Freezing. Ice.

Brittany was pulling Rachel back, arms around her waist. The pinprick of sun was threatening to explode against her, as anger and raged from Rachel, it was channeled into her familiars. The car door slammed on the other side, and it must have been the easiest thing in the world for Santana to dart around the car and into the police officers, looking at them, glaring at them, her own claws extended but never toward any of them. 

Mr. H stepped back, the police followed. Two other wands or rods were drawn. He must have heard his daughter shout in her rather loud voice, as he attempted spread his arms and stepped right in front of her and Brittany. But the officers would have none of that. Two rushed him, while a third simple fired a bright red bolt from his rod at Mr. H. The bolt hit, he collapsed, her wizard cried. 

Mist solidified from her breath. The grass crunched beneath her feet as handcuffs were placed on the older man. The other police looked at them, and the rest of the wands and rods were unlocked, ready to be drawn. 

The front door of the Berry residence opened. 

“Officers,” Quinn said, and all eyes turned to her. Including her father’s, who had walked out of the Berry’s home. Her home. “I kindly suggest you release Mr. Berry, lest someone get hurt.”

“Step back, miss,” a brave one said. “Just step back.”

A wand was held in front of her. 

Quinn sneered. The moon glowed brighter. 

Ice formed on its tip, then grip, then the hand and up his arm. Six wands or rods, well five really, were pointed at her. 

“Lucille Quinn Fabray,” her father shouted. 

“Quinn!” Rachel replied. Brittany held her tight, and heat exploded across her bond with the blonde. A growl that was not from her echoed in the empty street, and the police stepped back. They stepped back again when blue flashed in front of them, in front of Mr. H, and laughter filled the air. 

“That is enough, young lady,” her father continued, ignoring it all. The sneer on his face was as strong as she remembered it. At school, she tried so hard to emulate it, to simply continue with a look, a stare, a frown. But the power her father had, the power he held over her, over other people, was so strong.

That was before. 

That was before when he held her power. Now, standing in front of her, wearing the finest suit he owned with shoes that reflected the moon. No, her moon. 

Her pendant hung worthlessly underneath her collar, the orb now floating behind her. Her father paused in his approach, staring over her shoulder at the empty moon glowing, illuminating them all.

“Rachel, please, stop fighting Brittany,” Quinn whispered. “It hurts.” The headache from the heat was difficult to hold against her cold, the frozen, barren magic she needed so much now to keep Mr. H, and them, safe. “Please, it hurts greatly, and I cannot-“

Her wizard stilled in her sister-familiar’s arms. 

“Santana, I have this under control,” Quinn continued. “Join Brittany. Rachel must be freezing in this strange weather.”

Blue flashed, it was as if Santana Lopez had never left the side of their wizard.

“This silliness has gone far enough,” her father said. He held his hands out and up, no weapon in them, no threat. But he was never a threat. At least, he never needed to be appear to be one. “You need to stop.”

“Father, there is nothing I need to do,” Quinn said. She turned to look at officers. They pulled back, though in the distance she heard the sirens of other cars approaching. 

“You are my daughter, and you will obey.”

“I will do nothing.” Quinn turned to her wizard. Rachel shivered in Santana and Brittany’s arms, the pair of them squeezing her between their bodies. Mr. H lied still on the ground, staring at the four of them, though blank. He was breathing, but it was shallow and weak. Quinn stepped towards her girls. 

“What the hell?” One of the officers said. The bravest one stood his ground as the rest stepped back. Quinn’s tails flicked the air as snow fell for the first time that year. 

“Careful,” her father shouted. He joined the officers, hands still raised in the air. But the power, his power not hers, hung within them. She felt them, even this far apart. 

She stepped back, eyes locked on the dancing fingers.

“Don’t move, miss.” Another officer raised his rod, but did not step forward. 

Red chains sparked between the fingers. Quinn stepped away. 

The sirens ceased, and cars pulled up. Santana shifted them further behind Quinn. Somewhere, she felt the terror and anger and rage and desire from her sister-familiars, from her wizard, but mostly, she could not feel anything. Could not do anything except stare at the fingers waving in the air. 

“Don’t let any of them out of your sight,” her father said. “Just watch her.”

“So that’s her?” An officer asked. Quinn had seen him at her father’s hands, the gathering of his magic. 

“Correct,” her father answered. His eyes stared at her. “She escaped about a month ago and-“

“She is mine and you can’t have her,” Rachel shouted, pushing herself out of the arms of her sister-familiars. She stood right in front of Quinn, pushing herself against her chest and making her back up. Quinn blinked away the sight of her father’s magic as Rachel reached behind her and took a hand. Her claws retracted and warmth returned to her fingertips within the touch of her wizard. 

“Miss, step back, she’s a dangerous creature and Mr. Fabray is here to help,” the officer said, his wand still and pointing at her, though his eyes bounced back and forth between Rachel and Quinn. 

“Rachel, do not interfere,” Quinn leaned down and whispered into her ear. “I can handle this, really. My father-“

“Will never take you from me.”

“She is a feral kitsune and needs to be under control,” her father shouted. “Officers take them down now. Stun her before she escapes. I’ll handle her magic.”

“You will do no such thing,” Rachel stomped a foot, and for the first time from her wizard, she felt the power of magic flow. Not out and around them, like so many others, like her father or Mr. L Berry, but in, drawn so far from below them that it took its time to reach the little star. But the strength of earth magic was there, the power and stability growing up. Higher and higher, into her feet, then legs, then hips, chest, her heart. The power need not be much. The earth as ancient and horrendously strong, a grain of earth magic was enough. It sought freedom and whole, and while they would stand together, she would not break and shatter the world. 

Brittany darted over to them and took hold of Quinn’s arm, the warm, no searing heat of her power now melting away the steady snow fall and the claws on her other hand retracted too. The sun strained to remain in, and the anger of powerlessness burst through their bond. The magic that shattered Brittany, scattered her about herself until only fragments could be put back together, ripped through the cracks and threatened to burn its way out. 

Santana took the other side, though did not touch her. Flighty, free Santana. Wisps of blue nothingness sparked out, grabbing at the air, at cloths, at snow, at Brittany, her, and Rachel. Her magic danced unbidden, stretching out and ceasing everything, only to let go and start the whole routine again. But beneath the airy exterior, the hurricane raged at the edges, fraying the cloth of her control. The bond shuttered and shook with each thunderous thought, and had Quinn not leaned into her, she doubted the night would end without bloodshed.

“She is mine by law and tradition,” Rachel said. “You cannot have her. You will not have her.” The earth shuttered within her wizard. 

“Silence, little fag-spawn,” her father replied. “Speak not less you are spoke to.” More officers showed up, though few, if any drew a weapon upon them. 

“Respect your elders, miss,” an officer added. “This is Mr. F-

“I shall not defer nor grant that beast the respect or courteous owed to mankind or my elders,” Rachel spat out. Santana, no Brittany growled, the former smirked. 

Quinn stared as the magic within her father changed from binding, the kind she had felt so often in her life without ever experiencing it, to something dangerous, something horrible. 

Mr. H stirred nearby, the light snow blanketing him. 

“There are three beasts, you fools,” her father said, a crooked hand pointing at them. “Take them down now, lest we have more out of control. I will handle my daughter so that she is properly contained.” The magic etched the air now around his hand, visible for the first time. 

The six officers focused their will into their weapons, preparing their magic to take them down. Sevens sets of eyes glared down in hard, calculated looks, though only one of rage and hatred and jealousy. No, he would not have her, Quinn felt. Never again.

Rachel stomped, and the earth shuttered. Brittany breathed, and the sun flared. Santana stilled, and the storm whirled. 

And Quinn?

She waited.

The world went silent. The snow hung in the air, unable to fall or rise, and the street lights flickered with the unfathomable amount of magic within the small area. Wards flashed and shuttered under the stress, though the nearby Berry’s did not fluctuate at all. 

Maybe it would nevertheless. Her wizard and her sister-familiars had made their stand. The officers theirs. Her father made his a long time ago, when her mother died and her power was stolen. 

The pale ice moon shined behind them, as the street lights went out, the houses dimmed, and the stars went away, it was the only light left besides the red on the end of six wands and furious orange leaking from the chains her father was creating in his fingers. 

Fear. And anger. And hate. And worry. All boiled and danced and sung within her. Fear for Mr. H, lying on the ground, hurt and unprotected in this dangerous area. Anger at the officers for so blindly attacking an innocent man. Hate for her father, the one who caused all this, who forced her to escape from a house where she was a tool and-

She exhaled slowly, wrapping herself in the frozen tundra she now commanded. The wind picked up and blew hard against them. Rachel shivered but the Unholy Trinity did not react. The cold was nothing to the sun. The frost was nothing to the air. And Quinn? She was the blizzard, the ice, the snow. It was hers. And she understood that now. It was her responsibility to watch over and protect. Just as it was now her responsibility to protect her wizard and sister-familiars. 

“Brittany,” she whispered, sliding her right arm around Rachel’s waist. “When it comes to it, protect Mr. H, please. He is vulnerable, and you’re strong enough.”

Santana bounced next to her. “And you,” Quinn continued. “Have fun with my father, but leave him alive.”

She glanced down at Rachel, her sweet gentle wizard, shaking in her arm. Not from the cold or anxiety. It was not even fear. Across the bond, stretching through the aether into her, Quinn felt the anger directed at everyone but her familiars. The police for even being here. Her father for starting the whole mess. Oddly enough, Mr. H for being foolish enough to get hurt. They spilled over across the thin line connecting, a faint echo of what she should be feeling. Of what she was supposed to be. But for the moment. It was not her.

“Put your weapons down,” Quinn said, her voice echoing in the numbed sky. 

“Don’t just stand there,” her father shouted. “Put them down now. Get her.”

Quinn never removed her eyes from her father, staring at the man. How small he looked behind the six officers of the law. “You are trespassing on private property,” she said, “have not identified yourselves, nor presented any reason for being her. You have attacked the rightful owner-“

Red flared from a wand end, and it darted without a word from the surprised officer to them. 

Quinn flicked her left hand, forcing her will along her nerves. Frost traveled down her arms to her finger tips, where blue, green and purple hues erupted and scrawled across the air into a faint wall of ice. The red beam splashed against the wall, and it shattered into a mist of large snowflakes. 

Magic exploded in the small yard. Another burst flew out from her hand and Quinn curled around Rachel, putting herself between her wizard and the danger. This burst of cold solidified much faster, stronger, and though she felt dizzy for a moment, Quinn held onto Rachel. A cacophony of red and yellow flared against her shield as the officers sang out in a chorus of aggression, though the ice shield of blue and green and purple held in the night. 

Brittany dove to Mr. H and covered him, the heat of her magic bowling around her until a dome burned away anything that came close. The snow melted all around them, and not a single drop of water fell on the pair. Quinn shuffled them a step away, and sent another effort of will into their shield, condensing it as a particularly vile round of spells landed against it, slamming with a force that echoed in the street and her ears. Rachel tried to pull free but Quinn held tight. She flicked her hand, and sent another wave of cold to reinforce the wall keeping them safe.

The air screamed. It was violent, angry, and so very hateful. For a moment, things shook around them, or maybe she just felt like they were shaking, and Quinn’s ears popped. Her wall flared as her concentration lapsed for a moment, but sound returned to normal, though a window spider-cracked from the change in pressure, the sound echoing just under the scream. Rachel responded with her own, maybe because she was worried someone else had such pitch to break windows, but she was covering her ears and bending over as much as possible. Quinn tried to push her face into her back, to escape it. 

As the sound dissolved into the snow and darkness, and her own hearing returned, Quinn blinked away the tears in her eyes and looked over Rachel’s shoulder, through her shield. It held, the ice remaining in cracks and shattered pieces in the air. She struggled to send another burst of will into it, but she couldn’t focus. Beyond the wall, she could make out a few forms on the ground, rolling back and forth, while another was behind them, kneeling perhaps. Beyond that, her ears twitched and conversations were being held, over radios, while lights flared, blue then red. Blue then red. 

She blinked and stood up a bit more. The officers were on the ground, though most wands and rods were pointed at them. A few more had set up behind a set of police cars, spot lights pointed at them with the flashing lights running on their cars. Three cars in front of them. Quinn flared her will, and the wall became a dome, just in time for another burst of red and yellow behind her. Rachel shrieked and curled in her arms tighter. She was humming, stomping her feet to a pattern that she did not understand. 

Light blazed all around her, multiple points colliding with her ice shield. She drew in deep breathes, and with each exhale, frosty breathe added to shield. Rachel shook in her arms, hands over her ears. Fear scattered itself over their bond, and she shuffled on her feet, trying to keep both of them standing. But the force was too strong, and another scream sliced through the air. More windows shattered. Heat flared nearby, and Quinn gasped out a breath of will to support her shield. A beam traveled overhead, slicing through her ice, and she dropped them to their knees, over Rachel more. 

A brief second, and all movement stopped. It was too much. Just too much. In Sue’s class they practiced with shields daily, and while Quinn had performed fine, this was far beyond what she could do. Quinn prepared herself for another round, though she struggled to keep her eyes open. She could not hold out for much longer. She could not stay away. Her will collided against theirs and the ice cracked. Rachel screamed. She groaned on the strain. Another breath, this time smaller frost cloud traveled into shield. 

The world exploded again, stronger this time. Her moon was not enough. She was not enough. She pulled Rachel under her even more. Where was Mr. L? He should be here. That is if Santana called him. A few more lights escaped through her shield and though she felt the sting, ice coated the spot she was hit, leaving her to simply protect Rachel. They would not have her. Ice cracked and groaned and shook and shrieked around them, and she knew he shield would not hold much longer. Quinn could barely breath, barely focus on the energies within herself, let along she was pouring into the shield. 

“Enough!” Her father shouted. 

Sound died again. The lights stopped. The force ceased against her shield. 

Quinn stood up slowly, pushing through the cracks of her shield. Very little was left. She knew, instinctively and a bit intuitively, that her body was covered in welts, bruises, and a few cuts. Blood had frozen on her deathly pale skin in long paths stretching now her limbs. Her cloths were torn to shreds, hanging on by bits and pieces. Her legs burned though, from the crouch/standing position. Her arms ached, a But Rachel was not hurt. Her wizard was terrified beyond anything she had experienced and worried about her familiars, but she was not in pain. She was okay. 

“Enough,” her father repeated. 

Quinn turned slightly to stare at the kneeling form of her father perfectly still. Blood trickled down four long slashes on his face, though the sneer and fear were still evident on his face. He was leaning back, his neck stretched as much as possible, trying to avoid the set of claws that Santana had wrapped around his neck. She smirked at him, keeping her eyes on him. Her form was solid, mostly, with a hint of transparency every once in a while as she flickered. Wisps of blue danced off of her, grabbing at snowflakes. 

“It is over father,” Quinn said, huffing out each word. “Let me go.”

“You are mine,” he growled out. Santana squeezed lightly. 

“I may have been once,” she said. Quinn looked up and summoned her moon down to her. Her magic condensed more and more until it was nothing more than opal. “Not anymore.”

“No.” The world rumbled. “No. I won’t let you.”

“You have no power over me.” Rachel stood up in her arms, looking around like a frighten animal. “You never will again. I promise that.” Quinn caught her opal and held it close to her, blood sliding onto it. Frost still came with her breathe, but her magic was tired, almost empty. The opal did not glow as brightly as it had started out, but there was still some within it. 

Her father growled, but did not move. Not when Santana squeezed with her claws again. “Call them off,” she said, 

“They are not mine-“ he started, but Santana growled just as menacingly as her father did. “Fine. Officer Patty? Officer Jones? Would you kindly step back? I’m sure these,” he spat out the word with little choice, “ladies would let you pull your men back.” Two officers stood up slowly, blood trickling down from their ears. They helped the others off of the ground, though one needed more help than the rest. He was the closest to Brittany and Mr. H. Evidence of burns and smoke came out of his pants and blue jacket. Her shield was solid and complete. Not a single scratch on it, a red and yellow and orange semi-orb over the pair of them. “Call off your rabid pet, Lucille.”

“She is not mine,” Quinn replied. Santana’s glare tightened, as did her grip. “I am not yours. No one will be again.”

“Fine then,” he said. The frown disappeared, replaced with a wicked smile. His eyes twinkled, and Quinn stepped back. She breathed in heavily as the world rumbled again, this time not due to one of them. Brittany’s power was solidified and unavailable, stuck in protecting both Mr. H and herself. Santana had little in forms that could do that. The screeching was new, but it was on par with the ferocity of her magic. Quinn was exhausted. What little she had was housed in the broken shield around them, and Rachel. Her wizard was not an aggressive or defensive wizard. She barely had combat skills. 

Scarlet electricity arced from the ground into her father and then into Santana. Rachel screamed, “No.” The spirit coyote’s form flickered in and out of phase as she flew through the air behind her father. She landed with a sickening crunch, her body contorted in a shape that was no natural. Rachel tried to run to her, but as her father stood up, Quinn tightened her grip on her wizard. She just repeated over and over again: “no. Please, oh Barbara, no.” 

She had seen the look on her father so many times before. Over two months since she had found her freedom, memories had drifted back other, though Quinn was almost hesitant to call them memories. The ream-like visions played as if they were movies in her head, and she was watching someone else under the power of her father. There had been moments prior to this year when she had fought him and his will. Each time, Russel Fabray stood over her with the same look on his face: a wide, toothy grin, eyebrows furrowed, and anger through every pore of his body. The scarlet electricity coursed through him. 

He whipped a hand toward them, and Quinn was barely fast enough to twist them. She called up her will, and her opal exploded into a little moon, but it wasn’t enough. Frost exited her and, drawing upon the snowflakes, remnants of her spherical shield, even her frozen blood, an ice wall barely an inch thick riddled with cracks and holes grew almost instantly in front of them. But it was not enough.

A bolt, an honest to the glorious Lord Himself bolt, almost half a foot thick, of power tore through the air and night, cutting reality until it collided with her flimsy shield and exploded through. Quinn turned them and hunched down, but she was not fast enough. The spell caught her left shoulder, and while Rachel was safe from the impact, the force of it tossed them like rag dolls. Rachel slid away from her while Quinn had the fortune to fly straight back into a parked police car. 

The door dented behind her, her tails bending in awkward angles at the impact. Air escaped and for a moment, she could not breathe. Stars floated in her vision as she coughed out blood and tried to think straight. Everything was blurry. She looked back and forth, trying to focus on Rachel, find her, make sure she was okay. Footsteps came closer, cracking the fallen snow. Voices were saying something, now more footprints. Quinn tried to scurry back, but her feet refused to listen, just pushing in place. She could not feel her left arm. From her should down, where her father’s spell hit her, there was no movement what so ever. She felt the pain. The burning sensation dancing and pricking down her arm into her fingers. The torn skin beneath her cloths. Quinn sucked in another breath and summoned back her moon. The orb flew through the air and-

The heat was intense. So strong. So feral. She had never felt anything like that before. It was coming from nearby and within her head, but Quinn blinked away another set of stars and tried to stand up. A hand grabbed one of hers and pulled her up by her arm, nearly dislocated her shoulder, her good one. She whimpered but did not scream. She was pulled up until a face was leaning over into hers. The breath was familiar: rancid and terrible. Her feet refused to hold her up, scrapping across the snowy ground and digging in. Her left arm hung uselessly. “You will pay for this, Lucille,” her father spat at her, blood and spittle spattering on her face. She did not turn away. “This I promise you, you worthless child, you will pay in ways your mother never experienced.” 

Her mom. She had not thought of her in so long. Could not think of her. Would not. Quinn refused to think of the woman who sang songs to her whenever she was frightened of the monsters in the dark. Who would read the stories in all of their glory and wonderful nature with so many voices. Who’s arms wrapped around her perfectly, even though she was a chubby little girl with braces and a crooked nose. She barely could remember what she looked like any more, the memories locked away safe behind countless nightmares, sleeping or otherwise. They were safe. 

She was not. 

Something tackled her father, connecting with his side. He dropped Quinn’s arm and she dropped into a pile of arms and legs, crying out at the sudden pain of her knee bending slightly at a bad angle and dropping her completely to the ground. She feel just in time to see Rachel roll away from her father, an arm jutting out to grab her but missing. Rachel scurried across the ground stand in front of Quinn, arms spread to side with her feet shoulder width apart.

“You’ll pay for that, fag-spawn,” her father shouted and pushed himself to his feet.

“You will not have her,” Rachel replied, stomping one foot. She was inches away, so close. If only Quinn could touch her one last time. Despite her words, she would not be able to stop her father from taking her. Rachel could not handle a blast from her father such as the one he threw at Quinn. At least a shield was protecting them. Even with the ancient earth magic protecting her, her wizard had no skills in combat. In any form of offensive magic.

“She is mine, and you have-“

“I have all the rights.” Rachel stomped the other. “I have taken Lucille Quinn Fabray as a familiar, and by law and tradition you will not take her from me.” She leaned forward, watching from behind Rachel. Each breathe was empty, and there was nothing Quinn could do. She had no will left to summon a wall or anything. 

“What!?” Scarlet spun around her father, gathering force and speed. “What is this insanity?” 

“They are all mine,” Rachel continued. Left stomp, then right. The ground rumbled. Quinn gasped for breath. She leaned on her good arm, the shoulder burning from being pulled so hard. The other sat in her lap. “They will remain with me.”

“She is mine. You lies mean nothing, whore.”

“Over my dead body,” Rachel stomped a final time, left again. The ground shook slightly. But the magic soared around her father, until it bit at him and his cloths. No magic was around or within Rachel. No signs of earthly hues peeking through her lithe figure. No smells of grass or leaves or trees. Nothing. Whatever she had tried to call failed. Now, she stood defenseless in front of her biggest torturer, defending her from her father. Quinn sucked in another breathe, finding a hint of power. With a little bit, maybe she could push Rachel aside. Her arms refused to listen but her will, her magic, perhaps. Maybe she could-

“Fine, always happen of rid the world of something like you,” her father said. Rachel whimpered but did not move. She stood strong in front of Quinn as the magic whipped one final time around her father before he threw a hand towards them, the magic sailing around his shoulders and out off of his arm, hurling at them. There was nothing in Quinn. No power. No magic. No will. No thoughts. Everything was over. Her wizard would die, and she by her father’s hand at a later date. When everything was said and-

A gong rang. An honest to the Lord Himself gong rang and echoed in front of them. Quinn opened her eyes to see Rachel now huddled over her, covering her. Her face was pressed against her perfectly formed breasts, an arm around her back, careful of the wound on it. The other was curled in her hair, and Rachel was whispering something. A prayer perhaps. Quinn sat up slowly, and Rachel pulled away to see a man standing front of them. He was tall and well built, and Lord on high, the magic sang from him.

“Daddy!” Rachel shouted and wrapped her father around the waist. Mr. L Berry had arrived just in time to save his daughter. 

“Star, are you okay?” His voice was grave. 

“No, well, yes, but Quinn’s hurt bad, and Brittany’s shaking from holding it in, and Barbara,” Rachel stuttered out, “Santana, she was-“

“Sue is with her now,” Mr. L said. “We’ll take care of her.” He smiled down at his daughter wrapped around him like a young child. One hand stretched out in front of him, holding her father’s spell in place. The other reached down and petted Rachel’s head for a moment. 

The entire block was silent. No officer moved, no radio crackled through the air, not even an animal of sorts. Quinn could barely hear any breathing. Things slowly stopped being blurry, and she could see that some more people had arrived. Some of the Council, those with the power and desire to run their town and society, had arrived, along with seven Harbinger, armed with their maces and shockingly blue half caps. The men and women were spread out around them, a wall between the Berry’s and their family and everyone else. Only her father was intruding. Him and the familiars. 

“Sergeant Murphy!” Mr. L Berry shouted, and the street became alive again. Quinn noticed the crowd on the perimeter for the first time: people in their pajamas and winter coats standing around watching, waiting, to see what happens. 

“Sir.” A blonde man approached in a trench coat, a staff in hand with the tip glowing bright white. He did not wear the uniform of the Harbinger nor of the police officers, though he could be a detective, Quinn figured. 

“Start taking reports, I want to know just what happened,” Mr. L Berry said, never looking away from her father. Rachel let go of him and then knelt down next to her, pulling Quinn’s head close to her chest. She did not fight her wizard.

“See which story is closest to the truth?” Sergeant Murphy replied. 

“And wh’se gonna keep their job.” Mr. L Berry squeezed his hand shut, and the bolt from her father snapped away into nothingness. He waited a while, until the sergeant went away slowly, leaving only him and Russel standing around them. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come for my daughter,” he spat out, though stood up slowly and adjusted his winter coat. “Your spawn had interfered in-“

“Lucille Quinn Fabray is a registered intelligent familiar to one Rachel Barbara Berry,” Mr. L said. 

“Lies. There is –“

“The paper work has been signed, dated and filled out completely for over a month now.”

“That’s impossible. That, that can’t be true.” Her father shook his head, and the mania had returned slightly before he gathered it all up and hit it behind an air of civility. 

“You have attacked my house, broken my wards, hurt my husband and daughter, nearly crippled two of her familiars in their efforts to protect her, convinced the Lima police to help you with this.”

“I have done-“

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Russel,” Mr. L said. The power sang so strongly and Quinn relaxed even further into Rachel’s arms, closing her eyes. She was so tired. “Don’t you dare.” 

Silence came from both men, while dozens of people now moved around them. Footsteps scattered about, hustling from here to there. People talking, now that the fighting was over. Spells whipped about to repair whatever damage was done to the houses and wards. “Brittany,” Quinn said. 

“She’s okay,” Rachel replied. “I can feel it.”

“But, her-“

“She let go the moment Daddy arrived,” Rachel continued, petting Quinn’s hair again. “She hurts, yes, but I think she’s with Santana.”

“Go check them”

“You’re hurt too.”

“I fine.”

“Liar.” But there was a smile with the words. 

“Go. Please. I okay.”

“You’re not,” Rachel said and kissed the top of her head. Quinn sighed into her, relaxing even further. 

“They need-“

“You need me too, don’t you dare say otherwise.” Rachel sat up slightly, pulling her head off of hers. “Besides good things come to those who want them badly. Rest now, I have you.”

“You have me?”

Rachel leaned back against her head and nodded. “Of course, silly, you’re mine. I said that the first day I brought you home. I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“Anywhere,” Quinn repeated. 

“And anywhere is my arms.”

Quinn breathed in deep, shaking the entire time. “I hurt,” she finally said. 

“I know, sweetie, I know.”

“Santana hurt. Brittany hurt. Dad hurt.” Quinn muttered and leaned harder against Rachel. That earned her another kiss on the top of her head. She liked that. It was tingling and sweet and so wonderful down her spine to her toes. It was perfect. Maybe she’d do it again. 

“They’ll be okay.” Around them, other people were talking, yelling. Curses, the words not the spells, were exchanged, and things said, accusations and denials and threats tossed about. But someone stomped away, taking more with them. A body relaxed into hers, warm and cuddly. Quinn wanted to reach out and touch it, but her arms were tired and hurt. Her fingers on her left hand could move again. A third body relaxed on her back, resting a head just below her neck. Arms slid around her waist and hugged her close. 

“Star?” Mr. H said, his tenor a bit shaky but there was still some strength in it, despite the small beating he took. 

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Let’s go on inside,” he continued. 

“We’re comfortable,” Rachel whined.

“Sweetie, the girls are hurting, Quinn and Santana especially, and I need to check them over.” 

“Dad, we’re-“

“Quinn has a massive laceration along her left shoulder, possible nerve damage, and whatever else that horrible excuse for a human being did to her. Santana is a body of bruises and, given the shock she received, muscle spasms and maybe some burns.” That would explain the shaking body behind her. Santana shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around her waist. “And Brittany. Besides needing water to help counteract the dehydration she’s experiencing, I’m worried that there may be some other side effects we’re not seeing because she’s never done whatever she did this long.”

Brittany mouthed words against her arm, ending with taking it in her mouth and holding it in her lips with a smile. Quinn chuckled.

“Is it safe to move…“ The words drained off into a collage of mish and mash, and Quinn stopped hearing them. Rachel was close. Santana and Brittany were close. They all were here, safe, and alive. That was what mattered. The pain, the bruises, everything, it was slowly creeping into her. Everything hurt, except maybe her stomach. She had pressed that onto Rachel to help cover her, and it was the only portion of her that had not sustained a direct hit. 

Sometime later, Brittany was taken from her left side, and Rachel stood up with her. Santana clung tighter, but Quinn felt the presence of a magic fair ancient and greater than any she had felt before watching over them. Except she had felt it before. Somewhere in the haze of sitting awkwardly but comfortably, she knew that magic. She should have been panicking with Rachel being taken away, with Brittany gone. That her wizard was no long touching her was supposed to be frightening now. But they were alive, maybe hurt in Brittany’s case, but alive and with her. She could handle that. Then Santana was pulled away and Quinn’s eyes, barely open any more, stopped fighting the urge to work. She was asleep before arms picked her up and carried her safely into the house, leaving the wonderful magic outside and away from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this took forever. Despite the desire to get some things done in my life, I’ve been rather lax about actually doing them, like seeing a doctor. Go figure the desire to get stuff done is limited with depression, who would have thought. 
> 
> Anyways, I’ve had this chapter planned for a while, and really liked how it turned out. The next few should be coming sooner rather than later, if only because I’m making the time to write this in the morning and somehow finding the energy and will to do it in after work. 
> 
> As usual, I own nothing, but if I did, Glee would have probably been some epic lesbian love story like Camilla or Faking it. Just saying
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please review, I love them. Adore them. Cherish them.   
> SurrealSteamPuckk (WeOffendedShadows)


	6. Chapter 6: The Hardest Words to Say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whereas, the Berries and the Familiars deal with the aftermath of the previous night, and the relationship changes for the Cheerioes and their master.

Rachel slid one of her many stuff animals into Brittany’s arms. Her dancing blonde familiar whined as she stepped away, but held on tightly to the little bunny, curling up around it. She’d have to come back later to check on her. Her pets were okay. Her friends were okay. 

The three of them had done so much to protect her Dad, and her. Especially Quinn. Brittany burned so hard to protect her father, and while Quinn didn’t have even close to that amount of power, she put her body in harm to save her. Santana attempted to take down that evil jerk of a human fecal spawn, Mr. Fabray, and had she not taken a surprise attack, Rachel doubted that she would have ended the fight much sooner than her Daddy did. 

Leroy Berry. The powerhouse of Lima. Her father worked for the Council; he even refused to sit on it and command and rule the city. He had clearly the power. In fact, Rachel doubted that her father wasn’t one of the top five most powerful wizards in the town, if not top twenty in the region. The only thing preventing even more power was simply age and experience. He was young, but his will was fierce and so very strong. 

Russel Fabray was rumored to be another wizard of equal power and will, and he was often at the opposite end of whatever her father was doing. Both refused positions on the council, and both held a great deal of prestige within the community. While her Daddy was better respected within the ranks of the Harbingers and the Learners, Mr. Fabray garnered favor among the “little folk” so to speak, though mostly it was just whoever he could use and abuse, Rachel figured. Like his daughter.

She walked up the stairs slowly to the kitchen. Rachel Berry was exhausted. This whole screaming in terror and standing up to people was so tiring. Even more so than the dancing she had with done with Brittany. Surviving battle was so tough. But they all survived. All her girls were alive, if not recovering. 

Santana was passed out upstairs in their bed. The electric attack nearly fried her entire system, though Dad was confident she would recover. She fought the entire time going up the stairs and being put into the bed, though it wasn’t much effort to strip her and get her into a t-shirt (one of Rachel’s to be specific). The Latina cuddled a pillow and passed out almost immediately, despite shivering and shaking. Rachel felt bad about waking her up ten minutes ago to give her some medicine to help with her wounds. 

Brittany was more weak and frail than usual, though Rachel had never seen the use of her magic as she had done. She had never seen use of magic like that period. To take a complex idea such as heat and turn it into a physical construct was so amazing. Fire could be made a shield, certainly, but heat alone? Brilliant. But the effort drained Brittany of anything she had left. She retreated into one of her more childish personalities, and her body ached as horrible as Santana’s and Quinn’s, maybe even worse. A massage helped a little, though Rachel piled on as many stuffed animals as she find on the blonde and let her sleep with the sounds of a video game. 

Quinn was the worst. She was so strong at times, and others Rachel worried how she was even able to do anything with her magic. The ice and cold shield was a stunning display of finesse from her alpha familiar, and even then, to hold up against barrage after barrage from some of the stronger officers in Lima, just amazing. Not only did Quinn shield them with her power, but she used her body as well. Currently, her father was helping seal up and heal the various cuts and wounds scattered over her. She was the last one brought in from outside, where Daddy was still coordinating with the few cops he trusted on getting his home back in order. Dad had seen to the medical needs of her other familiars. Which included Quinn lying face down on the counter, shirt cut away and sloppy, disgusting paste of some sort slathered all over her back and arms, her exposed legs, though he avoided the massive tear along her left shoulder.

She’d recover, he said. Rachel believed him. Dad never lied to her. Ever. It was sweet. But the recovery would be difficult. 

She stepped the last few stairs as silently as possible, trying not to wake a sleeping kitsune in her kitchen. While her girls were scattered throughout the house, eventually, they’d want all be near her, so that would mean their bed. But for the moment, all of them needed their rest. Rachel had work to do.

Quinn was lying face down on the counter, a pillow stolen from her room make her somewhat comfortable, though Rachel doubted she even understood that concept at the moment. She counted thirty seven cuts across her entire body, seventeen fist size bruises, and countless smaller ones. Her shield was strong, but not strong enough it seemed. The wound her asshat of a sperm donor caused her was the worst. 

The skin was flayed off completely, exposing the muscle and tendons beneath. The remaining skin was black and necrotized, useless. Dad had to craft some sort of cover for it and was currently in his workshop trying to make something that would help. There was no telling what sort of damage was done to the underlying muscles, but he was confident that it would reparable. He even placed a few calls to some colleagues to get whatever help he could find, despite it being almost ten now. Apparently, someone was headed over with something medical of some sort to help out. Rachel just nodded rapidly and smiled at her Dad. He complained she nearly broke a rub with her hug, but he helped save Quinn. That deserved a Rachel Berry Hug, trademark. 

She slid her feet across the wooden floors to her sleeping familiar. Not sleeping, unconscious. Quinn fought, they all did, except her, and paid for it. Rachel sat on her stool and ran her fingers through the dirty blonde hair. They couldn’t clean off some of the blood and grim that found its way onto her, and a shower would be out of the question for a bit, at least until they fixed her shoulder. Sponge baths were fun right? Maybe Quinn let her do that for her, as a thank you of sorts. 

Rachel leaned down and kissed the top of her head, repeating the motion she did when they were hugging each other tightly outside. Well, she was hugging Quinn tightly. Her familiar just lied in her arms, trying to breathe normally and steadily without much movement. 

“Rach, you here?”

“Yeah, Dad,” she whispered. “I’m here.”

“Think I can tear you away from them for a moment?” He called out from the open door to the garage. She could see the lights of the cop cars dancing occasionally on the walls, and there was still a decent amount of conversation going on outside. A cold wind blew in and rustled the blanket Rachel had pulled over Quinn’s lower half. The rest of her would have to wait until the wounds were taken care of. Rachel ran her fingers through Quinn’s soft hair, lightly scratching her head, then joined her father in the garage. 

Rachel grabbed a spare blanket and pulled it over her shoulders as she walked over to her Dad. Whatever Quinn did had finally brought the snow she had been waiting for since her birthday, just she wished it wasn’t at this high cost. “Dad?” she asked, looking up to the slightly taller man.

The night had aged him fiercely. He never really had those grey hairs, did he? Certainly not the lines on his forehead, and she hadn’t seen him wear his glasses this much either. His hands shook as she spoke, enough that he thrust them into his pockets and just nodded. “Dad?” she repeated. 

“Sorry, right,” he said and shook his head. The woman he was talking to smiled and squeezed his shoulder before she walked away, headed inside with a bag on her hip. Rachel glared as she walked away. “How are you doing?”

“My familiars are all hurt,” Rachel said, “and the monster responsible for it is not arrested or punished-“

“Yes, that is something I agree with completely,” Dad smiled at her. Not down any more. Which was really strange. “But I meant physically. Jesse has a few potions to help Quinn, maybe Santana too.”

“Can’t you-“

“I don’t trust myself,” he said. Rachel slid over to him and wrapped an arm around his waist. He had always been the most confident person she knew(she did get her own pride in herself from him after all, not to say that her Daddy wasn’t confident, Dad just never doubted himself. Ever), and now, this whole night had stolen it from him. Maybe none of them got away scott-free. 

Magic was entirely will based. Wizard focused their will on energies to create the variety of effects they wanted. But that will was solely confidence driven. If a wizard had no faith in themselves, then it would be impossible for them to do, well, anything. 

Tonight, her Dad had been assaulted and thrown about like a rag doll. He was discarded then forced to be defended by a sixteen year old familiar. If the events of tonight had sapped her Dad of that vital part of him, then she doubted he could do much of anything, even something as simple as a potion. 

“Dad,” Rachel said and wrapped herself fully around him, her blanket hugging his chest. He wasn’t actually as tall as she was, thank god. It meant he was the one of the many perfect heights for hugs and she was able to squeeze him just shy of a Rachel Berry Hug, trademark. 

“I’ll be okay,” he kissed the top of her head. He spoke with a smile on his face, though Rachel wondered if it was forced. “I’ll be fine. My mind isn’t gone. Still the smartest person in this house. Or, at least I was until you brought Brittany home.”

“Right?” Rachel laughed. “I think she just draws unicorns and dinosaurs on her homework because she’s bored.”

“She is, but she enjoys not having that pressure to always be that Brittany. Just like how you don’t care who she is or how she acts.”

“She’s Brittany,” Rachel said, as if it was enough. It was. Quinn was Quinn. Santana was Santana. And Brittany was Brittany. Why would she want them to change? 

“When Leroy and I were in school, there was this boy with who acquired himself an intelligent familiar.” Rachel loved the stories of their time in high school, college, hell anything from their school days. “It was a girl I knew. A friend actually. She was this brilliant little thing, blonde and just this massive eyes behind some coke bottle glasses.”

“A crush, Dad,” Rachel asked, laughing.

“At the time, it was the expected thing to look at girls and want them.” The smile disappeared from Rachel. Dad’s family had never really been fully accepting of his so-called “gay lifestyle.” But he had Daddy’s family, and her, and now her familiars, so that was better. “She was one of the few friends I had. Then one summer, she disappeared. Came out that she was selkie, and the boy had taken her skin at some lake. That was the last I saw of her. At least, the girl I knew. She was around, always with that boy, but it wasn’t her. Gone were the sundresses and cute radish earrings she wore. The coke bottle glasses went away. The dirty, soft blonde turned into this platinum, horrendous color. I lost my friend to someone else’s wishes.

“See, star,” Dad continued. “It’s always been believed that a strong wizard alters the world to their perspective. After all, they have the power right? They can make people believe what they want, show them the truth, all that crazy stuff?”

“Of course,” Rachel said. Daddy did it all the time. People respected him, listened to him, because he was strong. Because he could change the world to his needs and wants. Merlin, the greatest wizard of all time, was said to have carved Camelot itself from the air and feed the masses with a wave of his hand. The world was his toy to play with. To destroy. To create. 

Dad shook his head. “Sometimes, I wonder if that is the best way to look at things. This boy was seen as the greatest wizard of our school for taming the wild selkie. I saw him for what he really was.” He pulled away from her and crouched down to look up at her, like he had done when she was little. Well, littler. “Would you do that to Brittany? Santana? Quinn?”

“Do what?”

“Change what they wear? How they act? Who they talk to? Would you make them yours completely?”

“No,” Rachel spat out. The word could not escape her quickly enough. “Never.”

“Why not?”

“Because then they wouldn’t be them.” Really, her Dad should have been smarter than this. “Why would I not want them to be them?”

“Maybe for the same reasons my father desires my power,” Quinn said. Rachel pushed her dad away and darted over to her familiar. She was wrapped in that spare blanket, and bare toes twiddled against the stone garage. Barbara she must be freezing. Instead of pain, all Rachel saw was a soft and exhausted smile, but a smile that reached her eyes fully.

She was standing, and she shouldn’t have been. The strange woman was holding her right arm, and shoulder too, and probably all of her weight, but Quinn was standing. She finally looked at this person Dad brought into their house.

The woman stood taller than most people, maybe even her daddy. Her white winter jacket hung open, revealing an equally pearlescent white tank top, and spotless blue jeans, all contrasting with the darkest skin she’d ever seen. Her regal face smiled down at them and her hair was cut so close, Rachel wouldn’t have doubted it was simply buzzed that way. A satchel hung on her shoulder opposite Quinn, and a rod sat in its holster on her waist. The woman was gorgeous. She was pretty flat chested, though her hips flared out with a simple cock of them, a relaxed stance showing off her finely curved legs down, all the way down to the ground. 

“This is a brave kitsune,” she spoke, a tenor that was out of place physically, but rang with such clarity that Rachel couldn’t help the smile at its perfect tone. There was a slight eastern bloc accent to it, just underneath the warmth and passion in it. “She desired to be near you, squirmed under my touch as I healed.”

“Quinn, your shoulder,” Rachel said, stepping into her space. The woman let Quinn go and she picked up the weight, supporting her hips while her familiar rested her head on her shoulder. The exposed flesh was covered in a bright pink bandage stretching from her clavicle down to her lower back. 

“It’s fine,” the woman replied. “The wound, while large, mostly superficial. Bandage help regrowth of the skin and make it all pretty again. No, bravery in magical exhaustion, sweet fox spirit.”

“I don’t understand,” Rachel stepped closer to Quinn, who curled even tighter around her, wrapping her arms around her and hugging her close until there was no space. 

“There but a hint of her magic within her. For kitsune to be so low, dangerous, deadly, stella. She use much of it to protect you from the majority of the police force.”

“Quinn,” Rachel said, stretching the word out slightly with a hint of a whine to express her displeasure at her familiar’s recklessness. 

“You needed to be safe from him, my wizard,” Quinn breathed out. 

“Never again, I am not as-“

“No, you are wrong,” Quinn pulled back slightly. “You are more important than any of us can express. Without you, we would be lost and broken, maybe even dead.”

Rachel thought back to the pet store, where they picked up Santana, and how horrible the conditions were. How Quinn spoke of what some dirty old man would do to HER familiar. She thought of how Quinn’s own flesh and blood treated her, how he careless threw his power about to subdue her and control her. She thought of how scattered Brittany was and how dangerous at times the emotions were for the girl. How she needed stability and care, desiring that more than her own safety. 

And she thought of Dad’s story: the girl stolen away and returned a fragment of herself for the whims of a wizard. The same type of story Quinn and Santana feared. Same reality that waited for them. They were hers, and by law, she had the right to do whatever she wanted with them. But she wanted nothing more than friends.

Rachel shuffled closer and rested her head on her shoulder. Quinn was roughly the same height as her dad, perfect for hugging. “I want you in bed, missy,” she whispered. 

“Not unless you-“

“I need to help Daddy,” Rachel replied. “But would Brittany and Santana suffice.”

Quinn didn’t say anything.

“We’re taking tomorrow off of school. So all of us can sleep in. When I’m done, I’ll come cuddle with the three bravest familiars in the world.”

“We are not brave.” Rachel could hear the blush. “Foolish yes. Had we been smarter, we would have simply drag you away until your Daddy showed up.”

Rachel smiled brightly at the word, the single word she had hoped Quinn would see. “Well, I think you’re brave, and you don’t get to argue with me, or no bacon.”

“Such a stern master,” the woman said.

“Oh,” Rachel pulled away just enough to look up to the woman. “I’m sorry, I-“

“It’s good,” she replied. “Good to see such love and care for such fragile things. You have a strong wizard here, Hiram.”

“Thank you, But she comes by that naturally through sheer stubbornness,” Dad said. “Thank you Jesse, I appreciate you coming out here, especially in this weather.”

“Reminds me a bit of home, but in a good way, you understand, yes?” 

Dad laughed. “Need anything before you head out?”

“No,” The two walked off, speaking in hushed voices. “But James would appreciate seeing you again. He with Leroy discussing what the next…”

“You shouldn’t be standing,” Rachel murmured against Quinn. The blanket tightened around her.

“I needed to see you,” Quinn replied. “You were not around, and felt sad. Brittany and Santana were not either.” A while ago, she was sure that Quinn would have kicked and screamed at the idea of crawling into bed with the other girls, or at least voicing it out loud. 

“Then let’s get you in bed.”

“I am not-“

“You in bed. Santana is passed out completely and Brittany probably could handle being cuddly with both of you without hurting either of your injuries,” Rachel slid out of the embrace. “No buts, either. This is happening and you will accept it and like it.”

“And you, where are you going to be?” 

“Daddy and I need to reset the wards.”

“You are helping him?” Rachel nodded, tracing little noncyclical designs along Quinn’s bare arms. She took Quinn’s hand and squeezed it softly. “I, Rachel. You should be sleeping too. This is not-“

“Hush my brave kitsune,” Rachel smiled and Quinn blushed. “You risked yourself for me, and now it is my turn to ensure you and your sister-familiars are safe.”

“Chel?” Brittany called from the kitchen. 

“C’mon,” Rachel pulled on Quinn gently into the house. “It’s bedtime.” In truth, her familiar probably should not be walking around, but Quinn was always stubborn and refused to listen to some pretty reasonable requests before, especially when she had to prove how strong she was. No matter what. As long as they took it slow, Rachel was sure nothing would happen, but she’d have to watch out and just be there if it did. 

“Not sleepy.”

“Liar.” Rachel kissed her nose and then turned around, continuing to guide her inside. She stretched out a hand and Brittany took it with a smile. The blonde’s other arm held tight to Elphie, a tiny plush elephant she named after the wizard from the musical. It was appropriate and adorable and she’d never allow anyone to say otherwise. Elphie was pulled flushed to Brittany, but both were happy with the arrangement. “Bed?”

“Will Tana and Luce be there?” Brittany asked, hope dancing brightly in her eyes. The night had torn her apart, leaving a child’s voice within the teen familiar. Rachel wanted to cry at the thought of her in so much pain. Each step must have been agony up the stairs, and to breathe, Rachel felt the faint echo across their bond. No, whatever Brittany was granted her great, terrible power. Emphasis on the terrible. This was the cost. And there wasn’t anything she could really do to help Brittany, other than simply be there and love her. 

The thought gave her pause for only a moment. She’d examine her emotions regarding her familiars later, but for now, bed. Rachel smiled as radiantly as she could and nodded. “She’s tired too, but missed you guys. Couldn’t sleep without you.”

“That is not-“ But a simple puppy-dog look from Brittany squashed any retort Quinn had. Rachel led them up the stairs. 

The house was quiet and dark, save intermediate red and blue lights flickering in through open blinds downstairs. She paused them at the top of the stairs. “Brittany, I want you in the middle, holding both of them so they don’t move around too much.”

“I will be-“ A glare from both Brittany and Rachel quieted the kitsune. 

“Kay,” Brittany said with a smile. She dropped Rachel’s hand and picked up Quinn’s. 

“Quinn is to be on your left side, you on your back, Santana your right.” Sometimes, the familiars needed a gentle reminder they had to look out for themselves. It was okay, Rachel was more than happy to do it for them. And despite the protests, the three of them liked it too. 

“Pajama’s? Does Santana need help getting into our proper cloths?” Brittany asked, slightly bouncing now. “I can do that without waking her.”

Rachel looked back and forth between her familiars then smiled as widely and let the mischievous twinkle in her eye flare. “No, but make sure both of you are.” 

!-!-!-!-!-!-!

Santana Marie Lopez was having the best dream in the world. It involved sitting on a throne of candy, in charge of Junk Food Land, with her ladies Britt-Britt and Lucy by her side, while Tink stood behind her, petting her hair. She even got to eat some poor peasants head off for daring to question her tax on the almond toffee. Honestly, Brittany was the only reason she even allowed that to be harvested and it was with great trepidation too. 

She curled in closer to the bare girl next to her, wrapping a leg around whoever’s it was. 

Lucy was readying an assault on Fridge Mountain to retrieve the Margarita Mixes of Heaven. Currently, she was in talks with their Ginger guard, about both the safety of the castle and the preparation for it, but in truth, she worried too much about here. Those Mixes were the prize and while Santana never expressly said she needed them, Lucy took the initiative and away she went to gather the troops and get her the drinks. 

Santana nuzzled the shoulder, sighing contently with a warm breathe on skin. 

Britt-Britt, on the other hand, was overseeing the construction of the Great Video Pyramid, the final construction of the mighty Santana’s empire. With the sixteen rooms filled with all the video games and movies, the four of them would have all they need to be entertained in the afterlife. But in the present life, it would give them a great place to escape the rabble. She could see the various dog-men of over six-feet tall slaving away on the candy-cane bricks. 

She gripped the hand on the stomach with her, the nude hand from the other girl across from her.

Tink, oh her goddess Tink. She was late converter, but in truth, without the beautiful radiance from her sun-god, she would have been dead and never in charge of Junk Food land. She never would have her warrior Lucy or her Sultan of Fun, Britt-Britt. Tink never took up much room physically, sometimes nothing more than six inches. But her presence. Her voice. Her self was so much more. And it was glorious.

The body-pillow giggled beneath.

Now though, she decreed through the land, it was sexy times. Thus it was, and everyone was happy. Yay.

She sucked hard on the thumb in her mouth. The body beneath her head shook with laughter. 

The soft click echoed through the dream of her going down on Britt-Britt while Lucy kissed her shoulders, her neck, her, well everything, with Tink simply stood back and smiled at them. They were for their goddess’s enjoyment after all. That was their purpose. She was perfectly okay with that idea. 

“Did your really have to?” Quinn asked.

The little space between dream and reality shattered, and Santana woke up without really opening her eyes. She felt the wonderful curves of a female body next to her, her bare breasts pressed against bare skin, her leg wrapped around another. Hair fell on her face and there was another arm above hers on the stomach of the body she lied against, though she felt fabric between her and the body she lied against. 

“Of course,” Rachel said. “It’s adorable.”

“Plus hot,” Brittany added, pulling Santana closer until she was completely flush against her. “Very, very hot.” 

The latina spat out the thumb that was not hers, not that she normally sucked her thumb because she was not a baby, and opened her eyes slowly to the brightly lit room. Whenever it was, the sun was already out and the bedroom’s blinds were pulled wide open, letting in the pearly white light of a snowy day. She blinked away the brightness and stared across Brittany’s breasts, glorious as they were, they were covered completely by the comforter, to Quinn, bare from the shoulders up. The comforter was pulled tightly against her captain, scrunched up in her armpits and taught down to her feet. She pulled her hand back to her side of Brittany, wiping the drool onto the comforter. “You’re naked,” Santana muttered through her haze. She was aware and awake, but sleep rarely left so easily. Her mind may be moving, but everything else hated the mornings. Including her mind, it just didn’t understand that she should be back asleep yet, traitor. 

“So are you,” Quinn said across from her. Her messy blonde hair was even more of a mess, and Santana could make out the patch of bandages on her shoulder, peaking just over it. 

“Me too,” Brittany added, then kissed both of their foreheads. Another click of a camera went off. 

“Hey!” Santana tried to sit up, but the arm wrapped around her shoulders stopped her completely. Not that it was really the arm itself, but more so that she had no energy to fight against it. In fact, she could barely move or speak with any of the normal amount of disgust and anger she would want to have in a situation like this. Pictures were no bueno. No bueno at all. Not if she wasn’t the one taking them, or choosing how she looked. 

But her arms ached. Her chest burned, and her legs felt filled with lead. She could probably shuffle around, but even turning her head to look up at Rachel, who had to be standing at the foot of the bed, was exhausting. Santana yawned and closed her eyes again. Fuck it, she’d sleep some more. 

“Nope,” Rachel said, and the comforter was torn off completely. “You’ve all slept too much, even if you are healing.” 

A couple of things happened much quicker than she had expected. First, Quinn squeaked and dove off of the bed, pushing away both Brittany and Santana, enough that the Latina nearly fell off the bed had it not been for the strength of the lanky blonde holding her. Second, Santana turned even deeper into Brittany, until she was almost flat on the girl, covering both of them an exposing her ass to Rachel. Finally, a hand smacked her ass hard. 

Quinn peaked over the side of the bed, an arm cross her chest, covering herself as much as possible, and glared at Rachel. “Was that necessary?”

“While I am well aware of all three of yours injuries, it is almost two, and it’d be better for all of our sleep schedules if you were up and moving.”

“Two?” Brittany asked. “But it was only...” she trailed off and tapped off numbers on Santana’s ass. 

“I put you all to bed at ten last night,” Rachel said. “Or rather, Brittany put the three of you in the bed then.”

Quinn’s glare turned to the pair of them on the bed. “Oh, shh you,” Brittany waved at the blonde with a free hand, the other still tapping some pattern on Santana. “You were okay with it last night. Up.” Brittany smacked her ass at the last word.

Santana pulled back as Brittany sat up without a hint of modesty, leaving just a pillow for Santana to cover herself with as she twisted to her knees. Not that she was really modest, it was just strange to be completely naked on someone else’s terms, even in her own bed. Brittany kissed her softly on the lips before scooting towards the foot of the bed and off of it, standing right next to Rachel. She wobbled on her feet for a moment, a hand darting out from their wizard to hold her up. A quick kiss to Rachel’s lip for thank you, and Brittany was off to the bathroom, sashaying her hips as much as possible as she walked the short distance. 

The three of them didn’t say a word, and Santana looked away first when the door closed. Quinn’s stare didn’t falter once, though she licked her lips when the door closed. Rachel smiled at her tallest familiar, before shaking her head and looking back at the two of them. “Feeling better?” 

Santana nodded before the words finished processing the words. She did feel better. The aches from the electricity that Fabrass shot through her were mostly gone, though her hands still trembled every once in a while. Her heart didn’t pound in her chest any more, and she could feel her fingers and toes once more. The memory of the pain was fresh though, and the worst part tended to be how it easily relived itself without her permission. She shuttered as the non-existent thought coursed through her body as easily as the magical pain did. 

“Sweetie?” Rachel crawled onto the bed and knelt next to her. She touched her shoulder, and Santana immediately leaned into her wizard. The pain left her slowly, and somewhere, she felt her breathing return to normal. “It’s okay, I’m here. We’re here.”

The bed shifted again, sinking behind her as Santana fell back into the arms of her captain, naked breasts squished on her back. Santana gasped out a breath, and tears slipped from her face, but the pair of arms around her shoulders held her tightly, and a soft hand caressed her face, wiping her face clean with each breath.

Slowly, things stopped aching, and her body relaxed even more into the arms. Santana stopped holding her head up and it fell onto Quinn’s arms. Rachel shifted closer, until her pink sweat pants touched her bare legs, then leaned down until her forehead rested on Santana’s. “You okay, puppy?” Santana nodded. “Hungry?” She shrugged. “Let me rephrase that: if I fed you, would you eat?” Another nod. “Okay, when Brittany is done, you use the rest room next and then Quinn. I have to check her bandages anyways.”

The door swung open, and Santana opened her eyes. Rachel was so close, her noses less than an inch from hers. She looked as beautiful as her goddess in her dream. The smile was radiant, mimicking the light bursting through the window and keeping them up. Santana shivered under the gaze, and felt her own goosebumps match Quinn’s that just appeared. 

“Brittany?” Rachel said. “Would you help Santana to the rest room? I have to look at Quinn’s bandages.”

“Shower?” the tall blonde asked. 

“No, I think we’re okay being a bit stinky for the day.”

“Not you,” Quinn said. “You smell like cherries and wild lavender and vanilla.”

“I showered while you all sleep. Didn’t even realize it.” Quinn let go of Santana, though never of them moved from their spot. 

“Did you sleep?” Quinn asked. Santana let herself settle against her captain until she lied against her naked chest, cuddling against her. She stayed away from the wound on her left shoulder, leaving her face right against her left breast. It was as glorious as she had always dreamed. She just wish she had the energy to explore it a bit more. 

“A little,” Rachel said, looking away. “Daddy and I needed to work through most of the night on the wards. We got the wards working, but it’ll take a bit for them to settle.”

“The sperm donor destroyed them?” Santana muttered, closing her eyes as she listened to the steady heartbeat. 

“Yes, sadly, but the new ones are way better, and Daddy let me design most of them. Even put in some ones that he didn’t think should be possible. Course, had to have the boring standard ones, but whatever, Daddy was happy with what we did.”

“How’s Hiram?” Brittany sat besides Santana, leaning against her. 

“Dad’s doing well,” Rachel stepped back from them, sliding off the bed. Santana opened her eyes and looked at her wizard, fully awake, for the first time that day. She wore a basic black shirt and large flannel pajama bottoms wrapped down so they hung on her waist, barely. Over a few inches of skin shown between her black tee and the bottoms, and she could have sworn there were abs. Abs. Her wizard was build. Fuck her, more material for her mental bank since she couldn’t do anything about it. “Embarrassed and a bit down, he’s taking the day off with us.

“Off?” Quinn tried to pull away, but between Santana grabbing her arm and Brittany wrapping one around her shoulders, her captain stayed as her pillow. “What about school, we cannot-“

“Between the storm you must have summoned up, missy, and the fact that the three of you were in no condition to attend, school was not happening.”

“Rachel, you cannot just-“

“No.” The word shuttered between all of them. “No. I can and I will. If the three of you are going to be foolish and try to protect me, then I can do as I see fit to take care of you.” She stomped her foot and the glare was no longer playful. “Understood?” Quinn nodded. Santana murmured out a yes, while Brittany was silent. “Good. Brittany, if you would with-“ Santana was pulled away without another word from anyone and carried into the bathroom. She looked over her shoulder to see Rachel crawling back to Quinn, a firm look on her face and a black bag in her hands. 

“Wait, I wanna,” Santana tried to spin in Brittany’s arm, but she had no leverage and no strength to fight the abnormally strong girl. 

“No, you use the restroom, and brush like a good little girl, like our wizard said to,” Brittany put her down and stood in the doorway, blocking her from even looking at anything outside of the bathroom. 

“So, you’re expecting me to piss with you watching me?” Santana put her hands on her waist and cocked her hips slightly, smirking up at her blonde sister-familiar. “Kinky, though thats not-“

“Tana?” Brittany said softly. The voice was so tired and weak that it almost broke her heart to hear it. “Can we just-“

‘Of course, sure, anything,” Santana said. “But turn around, I can’t do it with you watching.” Brittany complied and for the next ten minutes, Santana took care of what she needed to, including brushing her teeth and washing her face quickly. Outside the bathroom, voices were exchanged, though not really heated. She couldn’t make out the words.

Last night was rough, in many senses of the word. Her body refused to move quickly, and would tighten up at the worst time (Brittany had to help her off the toilet, damn body betraying her). She shuttered in her steps over to the sink and leaned against the wall to hold herself up as she brushed. Brittany stood behind her and watched over her, but at least let her be an adult and do it herself. 

After finishing up the bathroom, Brittany wrapped an arm around her shoulders and helped them back to the bed. Not that she really needed it, the shakes meaning nothing. Quinn was sitting on the edge with a massive grey, bland t-shirt pooled down around her waist, her bare legs kicking aimlessly in the air. She looked so small and tired in it, and Santana wondered if she looked as bad. Rachel was nowhere in the room. 

Brittany sat her down right next to their captain, and Santana turned immediately into Quinn, though she didn’t react. She stared at the ground, her hands gripping the comforter so hard she was white knuckling it. Brittany sat on her other side. “You okay?”

“My father hurt you,” She said after a while. 

“Q, I’m-“

“He nearly killed you,” Quinn continued. “Brittany could have died too. Well, maybe not.” There was an exhausted laughed accompanying her words. “She probably could have killed them all if she wanted to.”

Brittany giggled, and Santana felt the nod through her captain. “But we weren’t. I’m okay.” The shake did nothing to help her case. “Really, I’m good, and I gots to see you naked, so that makes things even better.” Quinn laughed, though it died quickly. “I mean, seriously, your breasts are perfect and I can’t wait until you let me-“

“She still has to kiss me,” Brittany said. “She owes me a kiss. Like you have Tana, Quinnie.”

“I do?” Quinn replied, her words light and a bit a smile in in them. Santana relaxed further into her captain, pulling her legs up under her. 

“Yep, you owe me many lady kisses.”

“Oh? How many?”

“Dis,” Brittany said, and Quinn’s laughter was music. Pure, wonderful, glorious music that never should be silenced. 

“More than me?” Santana asked.

“Well, duh,” Brittany giggled. “But you owe me some too.”

“Oh, well, then I guess I have to repay the debt, don’t I?” Santana sat up slowly, and an arm wrapped itself around her shoulders, holding her up as another shake traveled through her. Now that she was more awake, the pain was slightly beyond her senses, just waiting to return and sending out waves occasionally. Whatever spell Fabrass used was brutal and downright evil. Not only did she hurt, but it sapped away her energy to do anything. Like kiss two very pretty and sexy girls. That was no bueno. 

“Yep.”

The door to the bedroom opened up, and the three of them looked at Rachel returning with a bag in her arms. “What does Santana owe you, Brittany?” she asked, her smile bright and beautiful. 

Santana leaned across Quinn to grab at the blonde, but she scooted away and said with a bright smile, “Kisses. Lots of them. Dis many.” She held up her hands with all of her fingers waggling. “And Quinnie too.”

“Really? Quinn is kissing you girls now?” 

“Nooo,” Brittany drew out the world. “She just had her first kiss a few weeks ago.”

“First? With who,” The playfulness dissolved away and a firm, almost angry look appeared on her face. “Who kissed you Quinn?”

“She kissed Tana, Chel,” Brittany slid off the bed and waltzed, the three-four beat heavy in her footsteps, over to Rachel. “It was tots hot, you should have been there.”

“Santana got your first kiss?” Rachel raised an eyebrow in an eerily Quinn fashion, her arm sliding around Brittany’s waist. It didn’t do much too still the bouncing though. 

Quinn shuffled on the bed, then turned and tried to bury her face in Santana’s hair. “Maybe,” she said, drawing the word out, though it was almost muffled completely by black hair. Santana nodded her response, though she refused to hide the smile that was growing on her face.

“And she hasn’t kissed Brittany yet?”

“No, she’s being mean,” Brittany pouted; Quinn groaned and fell back off of Santana. “She’s hording her kisses.”

“Well, sharing is caring,” Santana added, and spun around to smirk down at her captain. The white shirt pooled over her, almost sinking her into the bed. Dark circles hung under her eyes, and her cheek bones were more prominent than before. Blue eyes stared back without a twinkle of mirth or happiness, but Santana didn’t see any sadness either. Not even resignation. Just exhaustion. Just acceptance

She tilted her head slightly, glancing briefly at Quinn’s lips before looking back into her eyes. Her captain didn’t smile, but the nod was enough. She was okay. She was doing fine. Her captain protected them. Santana protected their captain. That was the rule. That was the Unholy Trinity. Well, was being the key tense. 

“And Quinn hasn’t kissed me,” Brittany repeated, and Rachel sat on the other side of Quinn, mimicking Santana’s pose almost completely. “She should kiss me.”

“Do you think that’s fair?” Rachel said. She ran a hand through Quinn’s splayed out blonde hair, scratching her head ever so slightly, barely touching Quinn. Her captain leaned into the touch. Hell, Santana leaned over Quinn’s hips until she was resting on her wizard. Rachel’s other arm snaked around her. The bed bounced a moment as Brittany collapsed above Quinn, leaning over her with a large smile and her hair falling onto her. She slid down until her rested on her elbows, each on the side of Quinn’s head, her hair hiding her completely. 

The pair talked softly, and Brittany shivered in the middle, but didn’t shift away from Quinn. She touched that inner heat, however briefly. Even Santana felt it that time. “They-“ Rachel started, reaching for the pair to make them stop. That was no bueno. 

Santana twisted just enough to kiss Rachel’s neck. “They do this, leave me out, have their own little blonde conversations. Brittany says it’s because I’m too smart that I can’t handle what they talk about.” 

“It’s true,” Brittany said without looking up. 

“It’s factual,” Quinn added.

“Everything is satisfactual,” Rachel ended, singing in proper tone and pitch. Brittany giggled, but her focus, her stare, remained on Quinn. Santana didn’t say anything, and she was uber-happy Rachel was taking her que. Like, as much as her wizard knew them, she knew her blondes even more. Quinn nodded once, then twice, and Brittany sat up slowly, twisting herself perfectly so she slid under Quinn, pushing their captain up. Her hands slide under the shirt, but didn’t remove it. 

“Quinn has something to say to you, Chel,” Brittany said, resting her chin on her shoulder. 

“I am sorry,” Quinn murmured. She stared down at her lap, a free hand playing with the hem of her shirt. The other slide up and cupped one of Brittany’s hands, stilling it beneath the shirt. 

“For what?” Rachel asked.

“Hording my kisses,” Quinn replied. Brittany nuzzled the side of Quinn’s hair, and a smile crossed her captain’s face briefly, before the somber, repentant little girl was back. “I should not have done that. Sharing is extremely important.”

“It is,” Rachel smiled. “With who are you going to share first?” 

“You, my wizard,” Quinn looked up, and whatever meekness dissolved into the Queen Bee herself, the Ice Queen of McKinley. Proud. Beautiful. Enigmatic. She sat up slightly taller, a smirk on her face offering the world for but a word, and the glint in her eye promised things that should not be possible. “You, my protector. You, my love.”

Santana stopped breathing. In fact, her chest burned when her heart stopped, too. For a moment, she thought she lost the ability to even think, because the words just sat in her head, heavy and pulling her down so very, very hard. 

“I wasn’t expecting that,” Brittany said. 

Rachel swallowed and stared at her kitsune. 

Santana gasped in a breath and slide out of her wizard’s hold onto Quinn’s legs. 

“You told me to be honest about my wrong doings, Brittany, and how I should correct them,” Quinn said, the smile even wider.

They didn’t say anything. They couldn’t. Quinn wasn’t emotional. She just wasn’t. Not even in regards to her likes and dislikes. She never really revealed anything that could be used to hurt her, because it had been used in the past. That was their Quinn. That was their captain, their sister. She was ice and cold because without that, she could not exist. She would have crumbled under the force of her sperm donor so many years ago. 

“Quinn, I-“ Rachel said. “What, is it-“

“I would never lie to you, my wizard,” Quinn said. “You have shown me, and my sisters more life and love then I have ever felt before. You have offered your home, your hearth, and your heart to us, and all you wanted was our friendship. I offer, in its place, my devotion, my will, my love. For you, my wizard, I would-“

Rachel darted forward into Quinn hard enough that shock of pain startled all of them, Quinn the most, as she jerked her bad shoulder back. The three of them gasp collectively, which Santana refused to think about those stupid bonds, but focused on how Brittany leaned back, arms and chest still supporting their captain. Their alpha, really. If that was what Santana could see. And maybe from a few (yes only a few, she tried her hardest not to be super pervy about it) fantasies). 

But mostly what she could see was her wizard connecting faces with Quinn, lips gasping against each other. She heard smacking and sighing, and damn it, lying on Quinn’s legs was not a good view what so ever. 

Santana sat up slowly, pushing herself with as much strength as she could. A hand, her wizard’s bronzed perfect tiny hand stretched out and gripped her arm, pulling her close. Rachel stopped kissing her for a moment, just Santana was settled back on her shoulder. Somehow, the pile of them got much closer together, their faces almost touching, especially with Brittany resting on Quinn’s shoulder, Santana on Rachel’s opposite on, and her captain and wizard still mixing their breaths. “Thank you,” Rachel said, her voice barely there, but Santana heard it loudly on the winds of her. Quinn nodded. The happiness littering her face wasn’t marred by the tears in her eyes. “Thank you for your words, Quinn. I know-“

Brittany took Quinn’s chin in one hand and turned her just enough to kiss her deeply over the shoulder. While she felt the love blossom between the pair, sliding over their bonds, Rachel had tipped her face towards Santana’s, forcing her to look into her eyes. Brown stared back at her, lips already red and flushed. Her cheeks must have hurt from how wide her smile was. “My beautiful familiars,” Rachel whispered. 

The dream was so real this time. Rachel pressed her lips against hers softly, bouncing once, then a second time, and on the third held against Santana’s, breathing in sparingly. She couldn’t move. She didn’t have the energy, or the will really, to move away from her wizard. Her beautiful protector. Fingers gripped her hair, holding her up and closer, and Santana moaned against Rachel’s lips. 

And all three of the familiars jumped away, Quinn especially when she disappeared behind the bathroom door, when a sharp single knock sounded on the door. 

“Girls?” Hiriam said. “Second lunch is almost ready, and you three need to take another round of the potions and salves.”

Rachel sighed and leaned against Santana’s shoulder. “This will be for later than,” she said and kissed the bare skin beneath her before sliding away slowly, keeping the bed still. “Now, the three of you get dressed, and after we all eat, we’ll figure something to do to the day that won’t stress any of us out.”

There were grumbles, and shifts, and many, many mutterings under their breaths, but Rachel glared at Quinn, softly, as not to frighten the tired kitsune, and it was enough to settle the matter. 

They were beaten, almost broken, in pieces, but in the end, Santana had her two best friends and her wizard. They’d be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> So… this is gonna be strange – I got a really weird plot bunny stuck in my head that refused to leave, and this is what I wrote. It was meant to be a one shot. Currently it sits at 26k. Clearly I have a problem. Plot Bunny borrowed from Harry's New Pets by ap_aelfwine
> 
> The next chapter of dirty paws is outlined and I’m moving the plot along cause I think it’s time to actually have things happen. There may or may not be more smut to come. I want get to Christmas and from there finish up the rising action. 
> 
> I have no idea where this is going, mostly because once again, a plot developed out of a plot bunny. Any suggestions would be awesome because I’m just running into the fog with it. 
> 
> As always I do not own Glee. Had it been mine, I probably would have at least talked about some of the effects that the pregnancy had on the characters, as well as have, I don’t know, steady character develop that doesn’t involve ignoring my own canon.


End file.
